


The First Year

by Amuly



Series: Gwil's Guide to Growing Up Torchwood [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-30
Updated: 2010-11-05
Packaged: 2017-11-04 00:59:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/387910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amuly/pseuds/Amuly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a seven-year-old boy falls through the Rift, Ianto and Jack decide to adopt him. This is the story of his life at Torchwood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ianto announce their decision to the team.

Jack watched from his camp bed as Ianto got dressed. It was like a ritual with the young man – Jack knew better than to disturb it. First came the pants: silky red things Jack had bought him for his birthday a few months ago. Then the trousers, kept unbuttoned and unzipped until the vest and shirt were securely tucked in. Then belt and tie: today the tie was a soothing light blue. Jack smiled at the choice – light colors indicated Ianto was feeling happy, reds meant he was feeling sexy. Plain blacks or charcoal grays were generally not a good sign. After it was tied perfectly, Ianto would put on a waistcoat if he was wearing one that day – which he was, today. Finally came Jack’s favorite part (after Ianto stopped being naked): Ianto would sit down on the bed as he put on his socks and shoes.

This was the only point in his routine that Ianto would allow Jack to get handsy. Jack grinned as he sat up on the bed, reaching out and stroking the pale skin of his neck. Both shoes on, Ianto turned to Jack with a small, nervous smile. “Ready for today?”

Ianto’s eyes flickered down to the sheets, a small furrow creasing his brow. With a single finger under his chin, Jack lifted Ianto’s gaze until he was looking him in the eye. “You do realize you’re going to make the best dad ever, right?”

Ianto shrugged. “More worried about Torchwood as a suitable home than I am myself being a suitable dad.” A small smile quirked his face, and he leaned over Jack. “Though I’m terrified of that, too.”

Jack grinned broadly, tugging Ianto down into a kiss. Ianto pulled away, wrinkling his nose. “Morning breath, sir.”

“Oh,” Jack flopped back against the pillows as Ianto stood to put on his coat. “You can’t go refusing me kisses and calling me _sir_ in the same breath.”

Ianto quirked an eyebrow over his shoulder from where he stood by the ladder. “Guess you’ll just have to brush your teeth then. _Sir_.” With a smirk he was gone, up the ladder and out of the bedroom.

Jack sighed and stretched, scratching at his stomach. By the time the delicious aroma of coffee wafted down to his bed, Jack figured better get up, or risk the wrath of Ianto because he let his coffee go cold.

In five minutes he managed to brush his teeth and get dressed, bounding up from his hole and into his office. Sure enough, there was a fresh mug of coffee waiting for him on his desk, nestled comfortably atop a pile of papers, with a pen conspicuously on top of them as well. Jack sighed good-naturedly, then took a quick swallow of his coffee. “Don’t suppose these papers are here for decoration?” he shouted out the front doorway of his office.

“Sign them, Jack.”

Jack jumped and spun around. Ianto stood there, smiling wickedly at Jack’s reaction. “Where’s Gwil?”

Ianto’s expression instantly turned serious, and he nodded over Jack’s shoulder. “Finishing up his breakfast on the couch.” Jack grinned, grabbing his coffee and heading out into the main area of the Hub. He ignored the exasperated sigh that followed him.

“Gwil? Gwil?”

Sure enough, little Gwil was sitting cross-legged on the couch, plate of food balancing on his knees. Two glasses sat on the table in front of him: one full of orange juice, the other of milk. Jack smiled and reached out for the orange juice, taking a sip of it before Ianto was there, pulling the drink out of his hand and giving him a stern look. “Gwil needs his vitamins. Drink your coffee.”

Jack looked longingly down at the omelet Gwil was munching on as he observed the two men quietly. “But, don’t Captains-”

“Get breakfast, too,” Ianto finished for him, retrieving a plate filled with Jack’s very own omelet from seemingly nowhere. Jack grinned, scooping Ianto up for a kiss as he snatched his plate of food. A muffled giggle interrupted them, and the men broke apart, staring down at the little boy whose face was scrunched up in amusement.

Jack threw himself down onto the couch, almost upsetting Gwil’s carefully balanced plate of food in the process. He ruffled his dark brown hair as Gwil giggled some more. “How you doing, kiddo?”

Gwil instantly became subdued when Jack spoke to him, shrugging one shoulder and staring down at his food. “’m fine, Uncle Jack, sir.”

Jack huffed and glared at Ianto. “He picks up those good habits from _you_ ,” he accused.

Ianto just quirked an eyebrow and remarked dryly: “Well he has to learn manners from _someone_ ; not like he’ll pick them up from anyone else around here.” For a moment a worried expression passed over Ianto’s face, and he hurried off to the coffee machine. Jack watched as Ianto carefully prepared them both another cup, as well as Tosh’s coffee, who would be arriving soon.

When he returned and passed Jack his cup, Jack took the opportunity to grab Ianto’s wrist, stroking his thumb over the smooth skin there. “Hey.”

Ianto looked around the Hub, at Gwil – anywhere that wasn’t Jack. Finally his eyes settled on a point just below Jack’s chin, and he mumbled: “Maybe we should put Gwil in more proper hands. A family that knows what they’re doing, who can raise him right.”

Jack glanced over at Gwil, who was occupying himself with blowing bubbles in his milk. He stood up, pulling Ianto close and reaching up to cup a hand to his cheek. Ianto’s eyelids fluttered at the touch, and they just stood there for a moment as Jack grazed his thumb gently over Ianto’s cheek. “Do you love him?”

Ianto’s breath hitched, and he looked over at Gwil, blue eyes wide. Jack knew Ianto well enough to read a very real fear in those eyes. Beneath that, however, Jack thought he could see a glimmer of something else. The eyes returned to his, and Ianto nodded ever so slightly. “I...I think I might. But, it’s only been a week, Jack, and Torchwood...”

The cog door alarm sounded, and Ianto immediately jumped back from Jack, melting into the background of the Hub. True to form, it was Toshiko, looking a little bit tired, but ready for a day of work. Ianto’s coffee was waiting for her on her desk, steaming hot, and she made a beeline for it, humming gratefully as she sipped.

Jack sighed, looking over at Gwil, who was watching Toshiko with interest. They would have to tell him, and the rest of the team, about their plans soon. Preferably before Ianto reconsidered again.

The cog alarm sounded a second time. In walked Gwen, fiddling with her phone. When she caught sight of Gwil her eyes lit up, and she hurried over. “Morning, sweetheart. How are you?”

Gwil stared up at her, and Gwen visibly melted under those big blue eyes. Jack watched, fond grin on his face. If raised properly – which Jack fully intended to see to – that boy was going to be a real heartbreaker. “Fine, ma’am.”

Gwen scrunched up her nose and ruffled Gwil’s hair. “Just call me Auntie Gwen, sweetie.”

Ianto appeared with Gwen’s coffee, quirking a smile at her request. “I hope that means you and Uncle Jack are siblings or in-laws, rather than married.”

Gwen laughed, taking her coffee from Ianto and smacking him on the arm. “Oi! Behave.”

Ianto smiled as he turned to the coffee table and collected up the remnants of Gwil’s breakfast. He tapped the orange juice meaningfully. “You need to drink your juice. It has vitamins.”

Scrunching up his face, Gwil took a small sip before setting the glass balefully back down onto the table. “It’s too sweet.”

Ianto frowned. “If I bring you some fruit like yesterday, will you eat it?”

Gwil considered the compromise before nodding decisively. Jack grabbed at Ianto’s elbow as he headed past. “Spoiling him already?”

Ianto blushed and shrugged. “It’s fruit, Jack.”

He started away, but Jack kept a firm grip on his elbow. “Ianto, we have to tell the team about this.”

Whatever reply Ianto was going to say was cut off by the cog door alarm sounding as Owen stormed in, struggling out of his jacket. Jack came to a decision. “Everyone! Conference room.” Jack cut Owen off as he opened his mouth to complain. “Ianto’ll be there with coffee in five.”

As Ianto set off to brew a fresh batch for everyone, Jack squatted down next to Gwil. “Why don’t you come with me? I’m going to show you a really neat toy.”

Jack stifled a grin as Gwil glanced over at Ianto standing in front of the coffee machine before turning back to Jack. He nodded solemnly, hopping off the couch and reaching out to clutch at Jack’s trouser legs. Jack did him one better, scooping Gwil up into his arms and swinging him as he walked over to his office. Gwil giggled in his arms quietly, big eyes peering out in front of them to see where they were going.

Once in the office, Jack sat Gwil down on a clear spot on his desk. He squirmed a little, but stilled and waited patiently as Jack rummage through his desk. The boy was too well behaved for his own good. Jack was determined to change that, and soon. Laughing triumphantly, he pulled what he was looking for out of the desk: a Gameboy and headphones.

“Here.” Jack pressed the toy into Gwil’s hands. He turned it over in his tiny hands curiously, poking and prodding at it, while Jack put the earbuds in his ears. “You play it with your thumbs, like this,” Jack positioned Gwil’s hands properly on the Gameboy. It was lucky that Gwil was missing an index finger instead of a thumb. “And you turn it on...” Jack flipped the Gameboy on.

Gwil’s eyes widened as he watched the pictures appear on the screen. One hand flew up to his ear, yanking the earbud out and staring at it. He moved the earbud back and forth closer to his ear and then away from it. Jack grinned down at him. “See, you press this button here,” he poked the “start” button, “to start the game. Then just fiddle with these buttons to move around, and these buttons to jump and do other stuff.”

Gwil was entirely focused on the game, pressing buttons as his tongue slipped further and further from his mouth in concentration. Jack beamed. He’d spoil this kid – _his_ kid – rotten yet. No matter how responsibly Ianto would try to raise him. Peering out from the office, he saw Toshiko and Gwen heading to the conference room together, discussing a file in Gwen’s hands. “Alright buddy, let’s go.”

He scooped up Gwil again, placing him on his shoulders. He felt Gwil squirming around a bit, then settle into position with the Gameboy resting easily on Jack’s head. As he stepped to the conference room doors, he squatted down, instructing Gwil at the same time to “Duck.” He felt Gwil duck down low, wrapping his arms around Jack’s head as he pressed his body level with it. The two of them successfully navigated their way into the conference room without any bumps or bruises.

Jack swung Gwil down and plopped him into a seat, making sure the volume on his Gameboy was turned up high enough to drown out anything they said. With one last hair ruffle, he left the boy to his video game and took his place at the front of the table.

“What’s all this about, Jack?” Gwen asked.

Jack glanced toward the door, looking for Ianto. “It’s about Gwil.” He waited, drawing his words out slowly. “Ianto and I have something we would like to discuss with you.”

With impeccable timing as always, Ianto appeared, carrying a tray of coffee. Jack waited as Ianto passed it out, ignoring questioning looks from the rest of the team. Once Ianto was seated next to him, and Gwil was absorbed in his game, Jack turned his focus back to the rest of the team. “Ianto and I are going to adopt Gwil.”

The announcement was met with mixed results. Ianto blushed and stared down into his coffee, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Owen scoffed and immediately launched into a list of reasons why the idea was ridiculous. “...weevils getting loose and tearing the sod limb from limb. ...babysitting some little brat while I’m trying to sedate a Hoix, for crying out loud. ...enough bloody children on the team as it is with you, Captain...”

Gwen was ecstatic, clasping her hands together as she looked over at Gwil. “That’s wonderful! We’ll buy him clothes, teach him how to fight aliens with us...”

Tosh was smiling and effusing over Gwil’s future, though more sedately than Gwen. “...get him set up in school. ...teach him his letters, maths...”

Jack looked at Ianto, who was staying silent through the whole commotion. Their eyes met, and Ianto looked quickly down and away. He looked nervously around at the rapidly speaking team members. At Ianto’s hesitancy, Jack decided to take things back in hand.

“Guys, guys! Alright, now,” he paused for dramatic effect, nodding over at Gwil who was still enthralled by his video game. “Now, we just have to figure out what to tell Gwil.”  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ianto explain to Gwil about his two daddies.

Gwil sat on Jack’s desk, staring balefully up at two men as he munched on a slice of cantaloupe. Jack and Ianto stood before him, grinning and frowning respectively. There was a break in the three-way stare as Gwil finished his fruit and glanced down at the sticky juice still on his fingers. Ianto took the broken eye contact to turn to Jack, hands on his hips. “Are you sure...”

“Gwil.” Jack’s eyes flickered over to Ianto’s and he pursed his lips, as if to shush him. Jack wasn’t about to let Ianto have second thoughts for the fourth time in as many hours. “Gwil, you understand that you’re in the year twenty ten?”

Gwil thought about it for a moment, cocking his head slightly to the side. Then he nodded just once in affirmation.

“And you understand you’re not going back to your old life? With the mill?”

Gwil nodded again. Jack’s lips twitched at how the little boy managed to make nodding such a serious affair.

“Well, how would you like it if Ianto and I became your new daddies?”

Ianto stepped forward, positioning his body to cut in front of Jack ever-so-slightly. “Well, Jack would be your dad. I would be your tad.”

Oh. Jack beamed at Ianto. That simple statement made him want to wrap the other man up in his arms and snog him senseless. But right: child. This whole “cutting into their sex life” thing was going to be harder than he thought.

Gwil glanced between the two men, a single finger trapped in his mouth as he sucked on the last of the juice coating it. Then his nose scrunched up and the finger popped out of his mouth. “Two tads?” His little body shook with suppressed giggles, before he asked “What about a mam?”

Jack let Ianto take over, as he stepped in front and leaned forward. Jack was overcome by the conflicting desires of wanting to check out Ianto’s ass, and a surge of love for the little family of his. “Families don’t have just a mam and tad anymore,” he explained seriously. Gwil’s big blue eyes were focused on his as he listened. “There are families with mam’s and tad’s, but also families with mam’s and mum’s, or tad’s and dad’s. Do you understand?”

Gwil nodded. “Yes, tad.”

Jack watched carefully as Ianto’s entire body stiffened. He couldn’t see the other man’s face, and so was forced to wait, uncertain as to the reaction such words might provoke. An instant later Ianto was leaning forward carefully and wrapping his arms around the frail boy perched on the desk. When Ianto pulled away and turned to Jack, his eyes were red-rimmed and wet. Jack reached a hand out, but Ianto moved past him, with nothing more than a mumbled “Lunch,” before he disappeared.

Blue eyes met blue as Jack stared down at Gwil, hands on his hips. The little boy squirmed and dropped his eyes, rubbing one index finger over the scarred place where his other once was. Automatically Jack reached a large hand out, clasping it over the both of Gwil’s. “Hey.” Gwil glanced up at the soft tone. “Want to-”

But the suggestion of video games and toys that Jack was about to make was truncated by the Rift monitor going off. Gwil jumped in place on the desk as his eyes darted around frantically. In one motion Jack scooped Gwil up from the desk and rushed over to ladder, dropping him in front of it. “Gwil, I need you to listen to me, okay?” Gwil’s eyes were wide and a little scared, but thin eyebrows were pressed together in concentration. “I need you to go downstairs into my room. You can sleep, or play...” Jack hesitated, ever aware of the alarm blaring behind him and Tosh shouting out information, as he thought about the type of “toys” hidden under his bed. “Just, take a nap, okay? And don’t come out! No matter what!”

Gwil nodded, and with a firm push from Jack, he scrambled down the ladder and was gone.

Before he could even turn around, Jack felt heavy wool being placed on his shoulders, and he instinctively pushed his arms into the sleeves. “Gun, sir.” Cool leather was being pressed into his hand, and Jack turned around to come face to face with Ianto, worried eyes shining out from beneath his professional exterior. “Looks like a batch of living organisms. Tosh doesn’t have a fix on how many or what kind yet. But they are multiples.”

Jack nodded, turning to run off to the garage before hesitating. “He’s-”

“I’ll stay behind and monitor the computers while Tosh goes out to the field.” His eyes flickered to the manhole before meeting Jack’s calmly. “By the time you come back, I’ll have lunch ready.”

Taking one last moment, Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto’s waist. “Keep him safe.”

“And you the team, sir.”

Jack pulled Ianto close, kissing him. Even though the kiss was quick and chaste, he felt Ianto melt a little in his arms. He pulled away, and with one last look into Ianto’s eyes and thumb swept across his cheek, Jack was off.  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ianto figure out their living arrangements.

Ianto stood in the quiet space of Jack’s bedroom, hands on his hips, as Gwil watched a Sesame Street video on a portable DVD player. He was surveying the Count’s number craze with eyes much too serious for a seven year old. The maniacal laugh of the Count filled the cramped room, and the reminder of the room’s size made Ianto furrow his brow further.

There was the stomp of boots above his head, and then Jack’s feet came into view as he charged down the ladder. He greeted Ianto with a peck on the cheek and arm around his waist. “Need me to put Gwil in the conference room? We could...”

Decisively, Ianto turned to face Jack. His face immediately fell when greeted with Ianto’s stony expression. Ianto had to suppress an amused twitch of his lips at the sight. “Jack.”

“Ianto.”

“That’s what I needed to talk to you about.” Jack’s eyes lit up, but Ianto continued. “Not about sex.” Jack’s face fell for the second time. “About living space. Gwil needs his own room. And a playroom. And I need a kitchen if I’m going to keep him properly fed.”

Jack toyed with the hem of Ianto’s waistcoat as he considered. Ianto did his best to ignore the distraction. “You’ve been managing just fine with the fruits and everything so far.”

At that, Ianto blushed and glanced down. “I’ve been making runs to my flat or the market whenever I have a moment.”

Surprise flitted across Jack’s face, though whatever he might have said was interrupted by Gwil’s giggles of delight at something on the screen. Both men turned to look, and when they turned back to each other they wore matching expressions of love. “We need a flat, Jack. Even better: a house.”

Ianto watched as Jack’s expression flitted from shocked, to indignant, to worried, to finally sad. “But...” he glanced around the small bunker. “This is...” There was another pause as Jack seemed to try and collect his thoughts. “For a hundred years, Ianto.”

Ianto winced. He suspected as much, though he hadn’t sorted a better way to approach the subject with Jack. As much as the man lived in the present, he could be an old man in the way he held onto things from past lives. He dropped his voice, reaching out and folding his hands over one of Jack’s, which was still playing nervously with his hem. “I know, Jack.” He looked over at Gwil. “But we have to figure out something more permanent.”

Suddenly Jack’s eyes lit up. “Wait!” He pulled Ianto in and kissed him on the forehead. “Wait right here!” With a laugh, he dashed up the ladder and out into the Hub. Ianto listened as his boot steps faded away.

Ianto was left standing awkwardly in the bunk, shifting from foot to foot as Gwil concentrated on his video. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in this sort of situation. Sit with Gwil? Watch the video with him? Maybe he could just clean up a bit...but no, the room was spotless from his once-over that morning. What did parents _do_ all day with their kids?

“Tad?”

Ianto stiffened at the address, turning slowly to look at the little boy staring up at him from the bed. He felt his heart clench at the word, and his eyes burn. He admonished himself for such a strong reaction, going over to sit on the bed with Gwil. _Can’t start crying every time he calls me ‘tad’_. “Yes?”

Gwil pointed at the video screen, which was still playing the Count video. He appeared to be counting apples. “The video showed a number, but I didn’t know it.”

Ianto moved Gwil’s hands gently away from the player and fiddled with the rewind button. “We can go back. See? I press this button here, and it goes back.”

Ianto glanced over to see Gwil’s bright blue eyes watching his hands with all the care born from years as a mill scavenger. Every movement of Ianto’s fingers were catalogued and stored in his mind, to be recreated at a moment’s notice. “Where’s the number you didn’t know?”

Gwil watched the screen patiently as the video ran backwards. His brow furrowed in concentration, until suddenly his whole face flew open in recognition. “There!”

Ianto let the video run backwards another second, then pressed play.

“Six! Six apples! Ah ha ha ha!”

Gwil held his hands up to Ianto. “Show me six.”

Ianto hesitated, looking at the scarred and damaged hands before him. He clasped Gwil’s undamaged hand in his. “Show me one through five, first.”

Gwil nodded. He held up his fingers one by one, counting off. “One, two, three, four, five.”

Ianto nodded. He took Gwil’s damaged hand and pulled out the thumb. “Six is this: one more than five.” He continued to pull out Gwil’s fingers, ignoring the space lacking an index finger. “Then comes seven, eight, nine...” Without any hesitation, Ianto stuck his own index finger next to Gwil’s full open hands, “and ten.”

Gwil smiled broadly. “The Count said ten! He said ten fingers and toes.” Gwil scratched at the empty place where his index finger used to be. “I only have nine, right?”

Ianto nodded. Gwil looked so sad, that Ianto instinctively pulled the little body onto his lap, holding him close. “But that’s okay. It just means you’ll have to get me or...or your dad to help you count.”

The answer seemed to satisfy Gwil, and he continued to watch the video intensely, blue eyes darting across the screen in an attempt to memorize every moment. Ianto settled his cheek against Gwil’s hair and watched the video with him.

Just as the Count was turning over the video to Big Bird, Jack’s boot steps could be heard clattering above. A moment later his feet appeared as he started down the ladder, followed shortly by the rest of him.

Ianto didn’t miss the moment’s pause as Jack took in the sight of Gwil snuggled comfortably in Ianto’s lap. But Jack just smiled softly before waving a weird little tablet in his hand. “Found it!”

He walked over to Ianto, handing him the device. Ianto turned it over one-handed, carefully inspecting it. It appeared to be a computer tablet, with stylus attached. On the back was a series of forty-eight round dots, which appeared to be removable. Ianto handed the device back to Jack. “Is this hypercube tech?”

Jack nodded. “Got it in one!” He ripped the stylus off and gestured at the tablet. “All we have to do is draw our rooms...” he sketched a quick approximation of a bedroom, complete with specified lengths for the walls, “and then we take four of these little babies...” Jack peeled four of the dots off the back which were now glowing, “and...” Jack raced across the room, placing the four dots into a corner in the approximate size of a door. “Voila! Instant room!”

Ianto’s eyes widened as the dots glowed for a moment, before a door rose out of them and swung open. Inside the door, Ianto could see a bare space, extending far beyond the confines of Jack’s little bunk. “Whoa.” Ianto maneuvered Gwil out of his lap and back onto the bed, before he stood up and joined Jack in front of the brand new room. He ducked his head in and pulled back out. “That is _cool_.”

Wrapping an arm around him, Jack squeezed Ianto close. “Isn’t it?” He waved the tablet at Ianto. “And this way, you can have your kitchen and playroom and separate bedrooms,” Jack waggled his eyes at the last bit, “And we can still stay here!”

Ianto snatched the tablet and stylus from Jack’s hand and started sketching. Jack frowned. “What are you doing?”

Ianto shushed him, frowning at the tablet. “Designing the rooms. And before you say anything,” Ianto gestured at the empty room Jack had just created, “your room lacks electrical outlets, lighting, and air vents.” Jack and Ianto shared a grin before Ianto returned his attention to the tablet.

For an hour Ianto worked, carefully designing each and every room they’d need for their little underground flat. At first he stood in the center of the room, brow furrowed, tablet and stylus in either hand as he worked. Soon Jack was calling him over to the bed, where he was sitting with Gwil in his lap as they watched Big Bird teach about sharing together. Ianto sat down next to them, continuing his work even as he felt Jack’s hand settle on his thigh.

By the time he finished, Gwil was fast asleep, draped across both men’s laps, with the DVD player balanced precariously on his stomach. Ianto nudged Jack with his shoulder, waving the tablet around significantly. Jack took the hint, scooping Gwil and the player up into his arms, thus allowing Ianto to stand up. Ianto started positioning the glowing dots as Jack tucked Gwil into their bed, setting the DVD player on the side table for safekeeping.

“Finished?” Jack’s breath was hot against Ianto’s ear, and he shuddered at the feel of it. He tried to quell his arousal, though it was getting damn hard. They hadn’t shagged in...what, _three_ days? Ianto only hoped their new living quarters would fix that.

“Yup.” Ianto peeled off four of the dots and handed them to Jack. “Set these up in front of the bathroom.” Jack moved to comply, as Ianto headed over to the back wall to set up four more dots.

The room Ianto set up was Gwil’s room. He stepped inside it, glancing around. Bathroom, electrical outlets, lights, a ceiling fan...perfect. Ianto stepped to the back of it, setting up three more dots in the far corner. Another room opened up: a playroom for Gwil. “Want to christen it?”

Ianto jumped, spinning around to find Jack leering behind him. “It’s Gwil’s playroom, Jack.”

Jack shrugged. “Still...”

Ianto laughed, pushing Jack away. “No. But, if you’re good and help me set everything up...” Ianto leaned close, grinning as Jack’s eyes went wide and breath quickened, “We can christen _our_ new bedroom tonight.”

A veritable growl escaped Jack’s throat, but Ianto darted away before Jack could pounce. He hurried through the two rooms and into their new master bedroom. “Now: kitchen.” Ianto set up another room in the back of theirs. He glanced back over his shoulder to see Jack still following him. “You find the furniture, I’ll do the grocery shopping.”

Before Jack could whine, Ianto pulled him in close, kissing him soundly on the lips. “Sooner we get this taken care of...” he trailed off, eyebrow arched as Jack’s eyes dilated.

“Ianto,” he groaned.

“Later.” Ianto kissed Jack again, allowing them both a moment to lose themselves in the wet slide of tongues over tongues and lips sucking at lips. “Later,” Ianto said again, finally pulling apart. With a groan and one last peck on the lips, Jack nodded. The two separated, heading off to work on finishing their new home.  
  
  


 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ianto enjoy a quiet - very quiet - moment alone together.

Jack grinned as he dragged Ianto into their brand new master bedroom. Gwil had been put to bed hours ago, but the Rift and moving in had preoccupied the two men until late into the night.

But finally, _finally_ , Jack had Ianto all to himself. And Jack planned to take full advantage of their time alone. “ _Ianto_.”

He pulled Ianto to him, enveloping the other man in his arms as their mouths met in a messy kiss. Ianto pushed him backwards, into the bed, and Jack fell down onto it with a laugh. As Ianto crawled on top of him Jack moaned, thrusting his hips up as he pulled Ianto down to him by his tie.

“Jack, Jack, wait...”

Jack could have killed Ianto, if he wasn’t so busy kissing his neck. “What?” he groaned. “Come on,” he rolled the both of them over until Ianto was beneath him, mouth never leaving its place on Ianto’s neck. “Tonight, I’m going to make you scream.”

Ianto squirmed, tilting his head away as hands pushed at Jack’s chest. “No, Jack. We have to be quiet.” Jack pulled away, staring down in horror as Ianto spoke. “Gwil’s just on the other side of the wall.”

Jack moaned, collapsing on top of Ianto and rubbing against him like a kicked puppy. Quiet? _Quiet_? “But, Ianto,” Jack nipped at Ianto’s ear before whispering into it: “I love listening to you during sex.”

He could feel Ianto harden beneath him, hips rolling up against his in an automatic response. Jack decided to press his advantage: continuing to speak as he began to undress Ianto. “I love the way you sigh when I first stroke your cock.” Jack’s hands imitated his words, undoing Ianto’s trousers and slipping in. He glanced up at Ianto’s face as he stroked, but his lips remained closed, even as his eyes glazed over at the ministrations.

Jack kept trying. “And the way you _purr_ whenever my tongue caresses any centimeter of your skin.” Ianto’s clothes were rapidly disappearing, to be replaced by Jack’s tongue. He lapped at Ianto’s nipples, at his ribs; he dipped his tongue into Ianto’s navel before lapping at his hairy inner thighs. Throughout it all, Ianto didn’t make a sound. His eyes were shut, and body arching to Jack’s touch. Jack knew he was enjoying it, if the precome dripping down his erection and rapid rise and fall of his chest were any indication. But the only sound filling the room besides the sound of Jack’s voice was Ianto’s heavy breathing.

Jack upped his game: nuzzling his face along Ianto’s cock and darting his tongue out to lave at his balls. “I love the way you moan when I take your cock into my mouth.” Imitating his speech, Jack slipped his mouth over the head, bobbing down briefly and lapping at the hard flesh before pulling away. Jack heard a sharp exhalation, but when he glanced up Ianto’s mouth remained firmly shut, nostrils flaring as he took in more oxygen.

Jack rested his chin on Ianto’s thigh, pouting as he stared up at the other man. A raised eyebrow greeted his scrutiny, though it was a minute before Ianto finally spoke. “Finished? Or are we actually going to have sex?”

“Oh, so now you’ll make some noise.” Jack crawled up Ianto and reached over to the bedside table, snatching at the lube and coating his fingers in it before dropping it onto Ianto’s chest. He pressed two fingers inside himself as Ianto reached for the lube, squeezing some into his hand before reaching down to stroke his own erection.

Ianto smirked, all cheeky arrogance beneath Jack. “It’s this or no sex, Jack.” Jack squinted as he pushed a third finger into himself, focusing on preparing himself as efficiently as possible. “Don’t need our son traumatized by our extravagant sex life.”

Jack froze, three fingers buried deep within himself. Ianto froze beneath him in the same moment, eyes growing wide. _Our son._

Jack reached his free hand down, rubbing a thumb over Ianto’s cheek. With a gentle sigh the two men kissed, converting emotions to passion, the intangible and inexpressible to something physical - visceral. In that moment Jack lowered himself onto Ianto, groaning into the other man’s mouth as his cock filled him.

“Love the way you groan every time you enter me.”

A whimper might have escaped Ianto’s open mouth, but it was swallowed immediately by Jack’s as the two men began to thrust.

“Love your grunts and growls as you take me,” Jack whispered. His voice grew hoarse with arousal as Ianto’s hands moved down his sides, settling on his hips as he thrust up into Jack. In turn, Jack reached down and gripped at Ianto’s flanks, driving down onto him. Heavy breathing and the occasional gasp filled the room, but try as he might, Jack couldn’t wrench even a _whimper_ from Ianto’s tightly sealed lips. He tried pushing down hard and fast onto that thick, gorgeous cock beneath him, to no avail. He rose up tortuously slowly, sinking down in smooth, languid movements, hoping the pace would elicit an impatient growl, at the very least. Still, nothing. He clenched around Ianto as he drew up, but all that succeeded in doing was sending shudders coursing through Ianto’s body as his breaths grew louder and his eyes slid shut.

Jack huffed, throwing his head back and succumbing to his own pleasure, as wringing sounds out of Ianto was apparently a lost cause. As he came - thick ropes of fluid spattering on Ianto’s chest and stomach - Jack clenched hard around Ianto, hands digging into his flanks. Ianto continued to thrust into him, painfully quiet, as Jack softened. Leaning down until his lips were level with Ianto’s ear, Jack nipped at the lobe before murmuring: “I love the way you cry out when you come. Sometimes, when we’re gentle and slow, it’s this little, broken cry - like you’re amazed by how good it all is. When we’re rough, it’s more of a hoarse shout, manly and rugged.” Jack paused, waiting, as Ianto’s thrusts inside him grew more ragged. Still, not a sound escaped the other man.

Reaching up and running a hand through the other man’s thick, dark hair, Jack continued. “When we’re playing games, your cry is more of a awestruck laugh. I think I love that one best.” Jack nuzzled at Ianto’s neck, lapping at the sweat dripping down the sweet skin. “I love that one because it means you’re happy.” Jack paused, thinking he heard a sound other than Ianto’s breathing and the slapping of their skin. But no: the other man’s thrusts were ragged, his control almost gone, and yet he still managed to stay silent. Jack sighed and kissed at the tender spot below Ianto’s ear. “I love it when you’re happy,” he whispered.

Beneath him, Ianto stiffened as he came, heat flooding Jack’s passage as he emptied himself into it. Jack waited through the orgasm, rolling off once the last aftershocks had rippled through Ianto’s body. The men shifted on their new, king-sized bed: fluffing pillows, tugging at the sheets, and pulling limbs into comfortable positions. Finally they were in place, with Jack lying on his back and Ianto on his stomach, face buried in Jack’s neck. Jack wrapped an arm around Ianto, rubbing at his shoulder and neck as he thought.

“You know, I really don’t like you having to be quiet during sex.”

A delicate snort drifted up from his shoulder as Ianto just nuzzled at the skin. “I think you made your point.”

Jack sighed. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ianto’s hair before rubbing him fiercely. “No, but, I mean it.” Internally, Jack grumbled at himself. He couldn’t figure how to express how he felt about Ianto’s noises during sex. For one, it wasn’t just a sex thing - which, considering the situation, was a peculiar way to feel. But he knew he wanted to hear those little grunts and keens and moans. 

“Ianto, I...I love the sounds. I really do.”

Pressed to his chest, Ianto stirred, lifting his chin up and resting it on Jack’s pecs. Blue eyes contemplated him seriously as Jack rubbed a soothing hand across his shoulder. “Tomorrow, Rift willing, I can look into sound proofing.”

Jack’s grin lit up his face. Immediately Ianto arched an eyebrow in warning, pushing himself further upright. “You know, you said you wouldn’t mind if Gwil cut into our sex life.”

Jack winced. “Well, but if we can help it...”

Ianto’s small smile made up for the muted sex. Jack tugged him close, kissing him again on the forehead before they fell asleep.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwil gets immunized; Gwil gets sick; Jack and Ianto freak out.

Ianto was resisting the urge to pace. Jack was apparently giving into the temptation, treading a hole in the observation floor of the med bay as they watched Owen work below. Gwil sat on the table, calmly watching as Owen produced a series of syringes and laid them out on the table next to him. He was rattling off a list of vaccines for Gwil and the possible side effects. “So, since he's missing out on every vaccines, well, ever, I'm giving him an all-around super series of immunizations.” Owen held up a finger to the two men before either could speak. “And before you two concerned dads start, it's all perfectly safe.”

Ianto leaned forward, wrapping his hands around the railing. The cold metal bit into his skin as his grip tightened. He could feel Jack at his back, continuing to pace in and out of the corners of his eyes as his heavy footsteps echoed around the med bay.

Owen held up a syringe. “Booster number one! We've got HepB, RV, DTaP, Hib, PCV and IPV in this package.” He patted Gwil's arm, encouraging him to lift it. With a swift glance back at Ianto and Jack, Gwil held the arm up. Ianto stared into his scared blue eyes as Owen jabbed the needle in. Gwil snapped his eyes shut, but didn't make a sound.

“English, Owen. What'd you just vaccinate him against?”

Owen smiled tightly as he set the syringe down on the table, then picked up a second one and began to prepare it. “HepB is, obviously, the Hepatitis B vaccine. Every kid gets vaccinated against it in the first few months. RV immunizes against Rotavirus, which basically means you both should be shaking my hand right now, since I just saved you a world of headache.” Owen paused, apparently waiting them to ask about it.

Jack broke first, irritation snapping in his voice like a gunshot. “What do you mean?”

“Rotavirus causes diarrhea!” Ianto noticed that Owen somehow managed to convey the same amount of glee at diarrhea as he had at rat jam.

Jack settled next to Ianto on the railing, waving a hand as he shoulder bumped against Ianto's. Ianto glanced over at Jack as he spoke. “Thanks for that, Owen. What about the next one? DTaP?”

Owen flicked his finger at the syringe in hand as he spoke. “That one's nice. Prevents against Diphtheria, Whooping Cough, and Tetanus! Should get that one every decade or so, standard procedure.” With a come-hither gesture, Owen made Gwil raise his opposite arm up for the second injection. As he pressed the plunger down, Owen continued. “Hib prevents against a particularly nasty form of influenza, PCV prevents against a type of pneumonia, and IPV is your polio vaccine.”

A soft whimper sounded through the bay, made audible only by the acoustics of the room. Jack and Ianto practically fell over each other racing down to comfort Gwil, who was crying quietly. Jack got there first – if only because Ianto refused to leap over the railing – and scooped Gwil up into his arms, mindful of the two injection sites. “Hey, hey, it's okay little man.”

In another second Ianto was at Jack's side, running a hand through Gwil's hair. Jack continued to make gentle shushing noises. “It's okay. They're just shots. Everyone has to get one. Even grown-ups.” With a growl Jack turned to Owen, looking above Gwil's head. “What was that one?”

Owen rolled his eyes, getting yet another syringe ready. “MMR, Varicella, and HepA.” He flicked the syringe in his hands, eyeing up Gwil as if deciding where he should stick it. “Prevents measles, rubella, which is a kind of measles, mumps, chickenpox, and, obviously, Hepatitis A.”

Ianto nodded at the last syringe, hand still stroking absently through Gwil's hair. “What's that one?”

“Standard flu shot.” Owen edged closer, before finally throwing his hands up. “Listen, guys, you're just going to have to trust me and let me do my job, alright? Now turn the boy over so I can stick this in his arse.”

There was a moment of shocked silence – broken only by muffled sobs coming from Gwil – as the three men stared each other down. Then, very quietly, Jack began to chuckle. It took Ianto a moment, but by the time Jack was full-out roaring with laughter, he had realized what he found so amusing.

Owen seemed to realize it, too, and threw his hands up in defeat. “Oh, for...Ianto?”

Gently Ianto nudged a still hysterically laughing Jack away from Gwil. “In...his arse...” Jack managed to gasp out. “Going to give the boy a...little...prick!” He descended into mad cackles again, collapsing against the side railing.

Ianto made sure to shoot Jack a you're-an-adult-so-start-acting-like-one _look_ , before turning his attention back to Gwil's tear-stained face. “Hey, come here.” Ianto pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at Gwil's tears, before holding it in front of his nose. “Blow.”

Gwil obeyed, and Ianto tucked the now saturated square of fabric back into his pocket without a second's thought. “Now, Owen has one more injection for you, okay?”

Gwil looked like he might start crying again, so Ianto moved in and quickly kissed him on the forehead. It seemed to help calm Gwil down a little bit. “It's okay. I know it hurts, but you're just going to have to be brave.”

With a reluctant sniffle, Gwil nodded. Ianto smiled and gave him a hug, squeezing the tiny body tight. “You're going to have to turn over, lie down on your tummy.”

Obediently Gwil pulled away and lay down on the cool metal of the table. Ianto watched as Owen shucked down his trousers and glanced at the needle one last time. Gwil's head snapped around to Ianto, eyes wide. Ianto tried for a reassuring smile, not sure if he was getting it right, as he reached out and gripped Gwil's hand in his own. “It'll be over in a second.”

Gwil's eyes squeezed shut as the needle went in, his hand tightening around Ianto's. Ianto ran a thumb gently over the scar tissue from his mill accident, humming a lullaby under his breath. Finally, after what had to be no more than five seconds but felt like an eternity, Owen pulled away and patted Gwil's leg. “All done. See? Not terrible.” Ianto glared at Owen, certain that behind him, Jack was doing the same. Owen rolled his eyes and started over for the plasters. “Well, it's a sight better than mumps!” He stared over at Jack. “You _do_ know the symptoms, don't you?”

Jack winced, nodding quickly. Owen stopped back over to the table, coming around to Gwil's head. “What color plasters do you want? You've got three boo-boos to cover up.”

Ianto poorly suppressed a chuckle. When Owen looked up, confused, Ianto merely arched an eyebrow and said “'Boo-boos'?”

Owen gave him a look that could have curdled milk. “I'm not normally around kids, alright? Unless you count Captain Fantastic, over there.”

Ianto turned to see Jack raising his eyebrows in a wholly un-innocent expression. “Me? Juvenile?” He scoffed. “And how'd you know Ianto's  _special name_ for me?”

Ianto flushed as Owen made gagging noises. The doctor turned his attention back to Gwil, waggling the jar of plasters at him. “Made up your mind?”

Gwil pointed. “Can I have blue and red? I like blue and red.”

Ianto and Jack shouldn't have exchanged proud looks at such a simple choice. But they did.

**

Shaking with a cold sweat, Ianto sat straight up in bed, ears perked and eyes straining in the dark. Something was wrong. Something _bad_ was happening. 

After a long, long moment sitting in the dark and stillness, Ianto heard it. A thready, wet cough. The sound was coming through their open door from Gwil's bedroom.

Without a second's thought, Ianto leapt from bed, ignoring Jack's muffled “Riff-unghf?” as he dashed out of their room. Running to Gwil's bedside, Ianto reached out a shaking hand to his forehead. He was burning up. “Shit shit shit shit.” Shaking fingers reached out and checked the little boy's pulse, strong but rapid beneath sweaty skin. “Fuck. Fucking Owen!” At a loss of what to do, Ianto settled for scooping Gwil up and out of bed, duvet and all. He hurried the little boy to the kitchen, depositing him in a chair before rushing to grab a cup of water. He filled up one of Gwil's plastic cups: made for small hands prone to dropping things. He pushed the cup into Gwil's hands, encouraging him to drink as he fumbled for his cell. “Where...”

Jack stumbled in then, glancing around blearily as he scratched his stomach. “What's going on?”

“Jack, call Owen. Gwil's burning up. His pulse is fast, he's sweating and shivering.”

Jack raced over, pressing a large palm against Gwil's forehead. His lips tightened and he nodded. “I'll get Owen. Stay with him.”

Ianto nodded, gathering Gwil up into his arms and sitting down in one of the chairs around the kitchen table. He helped Gwil take another sip of water, brushing sweat-soaked hair away from his face as he did. Gwil shivered and coughed wetly. “Tad? I'm cold.”

Tears blossomed in Ianto's eyes as he leaned forward to press a kiss to the damp forehead. “I know. Ja-dad's calling Owen right now. He's going to bring medicine to make you better.”

As he waited, Ianto stared down at the duvet covering the two of them. It was covered in airplanes – Jack had insisted. Tears that had previously stung his eyes now threatened to fall as he remembered picking it out with Jack. Ianto had agreed on the bedding only if Jack promised to give Gwil a strong talking to if he ever got the urge to up and join the RAF, or some such other fool-hardy endeavor.

A minute later Ianto could hear shouting coming from their bedroom. “What the hell did you do to our son? … Possible side effects? … Get your ass down here, Harper, or so help me … Good!” Ianto winced as he heard something break against the wall. If he had to guess, he'd say it was his alarm clock. He made a note to check and order a new one if he was right.

Jack stormed into the kitchen, expression immediately crumbling as he gaze fell on Gwil. “Why don't we set him up in front of the tv?”

Ianto nodded, passing Gwil to Jack's outstretched arms. He took a moment to refill Gwil's water before following them into Gwil's playroom, where the telly was. Jack was flipping through the channels, before finally settling on a World War II documentary. Ianto arched an eyebrow as he handed Gwil his water and checked to make sure he was well tucked-in on the couch. “Is this really appropriate programming?”

Jack shrugged, clutching the remote tightly. “He's fine. And who knows: might catch a glimpse of me.”

Ianto looked pointedly down at Gwil, which was quickly turning into his signal for Jack to stop talking about things the little one shouldn't know. Jack rolled his eyes but passed the remote over to Ianto before standing. “I'll go upstairs and wait for Owen.” Ianto took his place on the couch, tilting his head up for a quick kiss before Jack left.

Fifteen minutes later, Ianto was beside himself. Gwil had drifted off into a restless sleep: coughing wetly every few minutes, fever still burning through his skin. Ianto had made sure he finished his water, but now with Gwil sleeping there was nothing for Ianto to do besides watch the little figure toss and turn in the grip of illness. If Owen didn't show up soon, Ianto was ready to pile them all into the SUV and drive to the A&E.

The sounds of footsteps and angry male voices floated into the playroom. Ianto jumped up from the couch, remembering at the last moment to be mindful of Gwil's tenuous sleep. “He's running a fever.”

“Yeah, yeah, Jack told me. How high?”

Ianto blinked. Owen's mouth dropped open. “You mean to tell me you guys haven't thought to actually stick a thermometer under his arm and check to see his temperature?”

Ianto met Jack's eyes on the other side of the couch. He shrugged.

“I don't think we even have-”

            Owen scoffed, cutting Ianto off. “You two do realize you live under the  _Hub_ , right? That my med bay is, oh, a one minute jaunt up your ladder?”

Ianto mentally berated himself. How could they have been so stupid? What kind of parent was he, that he couldn't even think to check his son's temperature when he was running a fever? How had he not thought to stock the medicine cabinet with a thermometer? Or just gone upstairs and gotten one from Owen's medical supplies himself?

Jack was yelling again. “Well that's what I pay you for! You're a doctor! Do something medical!”

Owen groused and grumbled as he tossed his backpack on the couch. “Don't think taking care of your kids was in my job description, Harkness.” Before Jack could start up again, Owen continued. “Just calm down, alright? I've got the fucking thermometer right here.”

“Language,” Ianto mumbled absently.

Jack's smile was normally enough to calm Ianto's fried nerves, and it did help – a little. Not enough.

Hands on his hips for lack of anything better to do with them, Ianto watched as Owen hauled Gwil up into a sitting position. “Hey, Gwil? Wake up for me; there you go.”

Gwil's eyes fluttered open, and he glanced around the room, his gaze settling on Ianto. His normally bright blue eyes were glazed as a weak hand fluttered out. “Tad?”

Ianto raced forward, dropping down to his heels as he grabbed the little hand. “Hey. It's going to be okay. Owen's here: he'll fix you up.”

“He better.” Ianto glanced up at Jack, shooting him a _look_.

“ _Doctor_ Harper is right here, so you better shut your big gob if you want me to fix this.” Even as the three men were arguing – or in Ianto's case, quietly having a nervous breakdown – Owen worked. He pulled a thermometer out of his bag, sticking it under Gwil's arm and ordering him to keep it there. Next came an otoscope which he used to examine Gwil's ears, eyes, and nose.

“Open your mouth, Gwil. There you go. Say 'ah'.” Gwil complied, but started coughing after just a second of speaking. Owen frowned.

“Wet cough.”

If Ianto hadn't been holding Gwil's hand, he would be wringing his own with anxiety. “I know. That's bad, isn't it?”

As he pulled a stethoscope from his bag, Owen rolled his eyes. “Relax, mate. It's to be expected from all the immunizations. It just means he's got gunk in his lungs.” Owen rolled up Gwil's pajama top – pterodactyls and dinosaurs, which Jack had cooed and exclaimed over as soon as they saw it in the store – and pressed the stethoscope to his chest. “Take a big breath for me, Gwil. Breathe in...” Ianto didn't even need a stethoscope to hear the rattle from his lungs.

_Oh God, he's going to die. His body can't handle the twenty-first century; he's going to die and it's our fault. Oh please, no, no..._

The thermometer beeped and Owen reached for it, pull the stethoscope out of his ears as he did. “38.5.”

“That's bad, isn't it? How bad is that?” Tears were spring to Ianto's eyes as he stared helplessly up at Owen.

“Well, in my professional opinion as a _doctor_ ,” Owen shot Jack a glare as he emphasized the word, “your son is sick.”

Ianto blinked. Jack spoke first. “Owen...”

“He's going to be fine.” Owen snorted as he dug into his backpack again, withdrawing two bottles and handing them over to Ianto. “It's just a reaction to the immunizations, which we knew was probably going to happen. He'll be fine in a few days.” He pointed at the bottles. “Just give him a capful of each three times a day with food. Make sure he stays hydrated. Make him some chicken soup, or something.” As Ianto stared, brain slow from shock, Owen laughed. “Look at you two: ready to jump off a cliff from a little cold. God help the poor sod if he ever breaks a leg.”

Ianto stared at the two bottles now clenched tightly in his fist. “He's going to be fine.”

“Got it in one, tad,” Owen laughed. “Now, if you two don't mind, I have a gorgeous blonde waiting for me back at my flat, thinking I have the worst boss in the universe.” Owen packed up his things and stood, shrugging at Jack. “'Course, after tonight, I'm not going to really argue the point.”

Ianto took a last, shaking breath. “Fine. He'll be fine.”

Owen nodded slowly. “Yeah, Ianto.” With a scoff he turned to Jack, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Will you deal with your spouse? Like I said: blonde. Gorgeous. Goodnight.”

Ianto was too busy rubbing his fingers over and over the hand clasped in his. _Fine. Fine. He's fine. It's just a cold_. Without him noticing, Jack had crossed the room and dropped down beside him. Jack's arm around his waist and lips in his hair brought Ianto back to reality. “Sorry,” Jack mumbled into his hair. “I guess I overreacted.”

Ianto's laugh was more relived than hysterical, though it was a close thing. “We're terrible at this.”

Jack laughed with him, pressing a kiss to his temple before squeezing him tight and standing. “Come on.” He bundled Gwil up in his arms, carrying the sleepy boy back to his bed. Ianto followed, still clutching the two bottles of medicine in his hand like a security blanket. Jack left him to Gwil, heading off to the kitchen to fetch something light for Gwil to eat along with the medicine. Once Gwil was snugly tucked into bed, a pile of pillows propping him up, Ianto measured out a capful each of the two medicines. One was a pink, thick syrup; the other was red and more watery. Ianto reached forward, stroking the back of Gwil's neck as he gently tipped the liquids into his mouth. Gwil coughed a little after the red one, but swallowed them both down.

Overcome by the sudden urge to hold him, Ianto crawled into bed with Gwil and pulled him close, stroking his sweaty hair as he hummed soothing nonsense. Jack returned then, holding a bowl of cereal in one hand and a cup of water in the other. “Is this okay?”

Ianto looked at the bowl. “Do you think he'll be able to stomach the milk?”

Jack shrugged. “There's not much here.”

Ianto reached out his free hand for the bowl, nudging Gwil into alertness. “Come on, Gwil. Take a few mouthfuls of this before you fall asleep.”

A soft groan wrenched Ianto's heart, and a raspy voice whispered: “My throat hurts.”

Ianto looked helplessly at Jack. The other man joined them on the bed, rubbing Gwil's duvet-covered leg encouragingly. “Can't you just take a few bites? Three? For me and your tad?”

With a small nod Gwil opened his mouth, allowing Ianto to guide a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He chewed slowly: like every bite was a struggle. One more spoonful and Ianto set the bowl aside, unable to put Gwil through anymore. “Good job. You can go to sleep, now.” Ianto held up the water from the nightstand. “You have water here if you need it. And Ja-dad and I are just down the hall if you need us.”

As Ianto made to stand up, a tiny hand darted out from beneath the sheets. “Tad?” Glazed blue eyes stared up at him through a sheen of sweat and pile of blankets. “Stay? Please?”

Ianto hadn't even realized he had moved by the time he was lying down on the bed, pulling Gwil into his arms. A moment later the bed dipped, Jack climbing over and settling on the other side of Gwil. Ianto gave him a watery smile. “He needs to cool off. His fever will never decrease with a human furnace lying next to him.”

Jack smiled back. “Just until he falls asleep.”

**

The next morning came with the sounds of Jack's wrist strap beeping instantly in Ianto's ear. With a groan and an overly loud _pop_ from his back, Ianto glanced around him. He was still in Gwil's bed, Jack curled up on the opposite side with Gwil in between them. Jack's arm was flung across the pillows, fingers curled barely on the shell of Ianto's ear. It was on this arm that Jack's wrist strap was beeping, sounding annoyingly close to Ianto's eardrum. 

Doing his best to avoid waking the other two, Ianto moved his hand down to Gwil's forehead. It was still warm, but nowhere near as hot as it had been that night. Ianto felt the cold pit of fear in his belly start to thaw. Everything would be fine.

“Ianto?”

Jack was stirring, hair poking up in all directions as he lifted his head from one of Gwil's pillows. Ianto nodded carefully over at the doorway, and Jack nodded back. With great care the two men slipped from Gwil's bed, Ianto stopping just for a moment to make sure he was properly tucked in before they snuck out.

Once they were in the kitchen Ianto collapsed against the fridge, letting his eyes slide closed as he swallowed convulsively. Warmth enveloped him as Jack pressed against him, pulling him into a hug. Ianto stayed with his eyes closed, breathing deep Jack's scent as he tried to push away the last remnants of terror from the night. “Come back to bed? Our bed?”

Ianto sighed, finally opening his eyes as he pushed Jack away. “Can't.” He checked his wristwatch, sighing when he saw it was already seven. “Got to make breakfast, coffee, shower, dress, get the Hub ready, get Gwil his medicine...” Ianto frowned. “Do you know how to make chicken soup?”

Jack's sheepish grin was all the answer Ianto needed. “I can heat up a can?” he offered.

Ianto sighed. “So can I. I just thought...maybe from scratch...”

Before he knew what was happening, Jack had pulled Ianto into a kiss. Ianto tensed before relaxing into it, finding comfort in the smooth warmth of Jack's lips. When they pulled apart Jack ran a hand through Ianto's hair, down the side of his head. “I'm sure canned soup will be good enough for now.”

“We're terrible at this,” Ianto reasserted.

Jack shrugged, grin a bit more of its cocksure self. “Us? We're the best.” With one last kiss Jack took off to their bedroom, leaving Ianto to scramble through their cupboards – did they even have canned soup?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwil needs some schooling, so Tosh becomes his tutor. Ianto worries (as if that's new).

Ianto brought Gwil over to Tosh, the little boy following slightly behind him. He was dressed up: wearing slacks, a little button-down shirt, and shiny new shoes. That morning Ianto had started to instruct Gwil on doing up laces. Gwil had picked up surprisingly quickly, copying Ianto exactly on the first try, then repeating it with only the slightest hesitation when Ianto asked him to try again. Ianto had praised him, genuinely impressed by his speed of learning and retention ability.

“Have to learn fast,” Gwil said, shrugging one delicate shoulder. “'therwise, machines or bosses'll getchya.”

In the early light of morning, Ianto had chosen to ignore the statement of fact from Gwil. He did, however, file it away in his mind for future examination. He and Jack might have to have a conversation about it tonight: what Gwil had gone through, if there was anything they should be doing for him to ease the memories.

Ianto smiled at Tosh, tugging Gwil forward so he could look up at her. Sipping her coffee, Tosh turned in her chair and smiled at Ianto, before bending down to share the smile with Gwil. “Hello, Gwil. Are you ready for school?” Gwil nodded quite seriously, shifting the pile of books and papers he had tucked under one arm.

Ianto smiled back up at Tosh. “Jack and I _really_ appreciate you doing this for us. It's not in your job description, but-”

But Tosh was already cutting Ianto off with a light touch to his arm. “Of _course_ I'll help out.” She grinned as she grabbed at her glasses and purse. “Besides, Jack's letting me do this on the clock, so I'm getting paid, too.”

Abruptly, a sudden hesitation to pass Gwil off to Tosh overwhelmed Ianto. He glanced down at the little boy, who was staring up at the two adults patiently, waiting for them to do whatever they might. Ianto bent down and looked Gwil in the eyes. “Be good for Ms. Toshiko.” Gwil nodded. Ianto reached a hand out, hesitating before he ran it over his cheek. Finally he stood, smiling a little tightly at Tosh. “Sorry. Just...”

But Tosh was smiling back understandingly. She patted her purse. “Got weevil spray and my gun in here, plus comms in. Whatever dangers we might run into at the park, I'm sure I can handle it.” She leaned forward and pecked Ianto on the cheek, before holding out her hand for Gwil to take. She patted his tiny hand with her other as they walked to the cog door and out of the Hub. “So your tad wants me to teach you letters and maths...”

Even after the cog door closed resoundingly, Ianto continued to stare after them. A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, and Ianto spun around to see Jack looking worriedly at him. “I thought you and Owen were out?”

Jack nodded over in the direction of the car park, where Owen was emerging with a body on a stretcher. When he pushed the trolley closer, Ianto could see it was a weevil body. He winced. “No luck sedating it, then.”

Owen shook his head. “Strangest thing: I think it had an allergic reaction to the weevil spray.” As he spoke, Ianto helped Owen maneuver it down into the autopsy bay and transfer to the table. Owen gestured at the weevil's face as he pulled on gloves and got his tools ready. “See how its eyes are swollen shut? And its mouth is puffy. To me, it's got all the hallmarks of anaphylactic shock.”

Ianto nodded, pulling his notepad out of his inside jacket pocket. “I'll make a note of it, see if there aren't any other recorded incidents similar to this.” Finishing scribbling himself a note in shorthand, Ianto nodded. “Make sure you get me the full report with your findings?”

Absently Owen hummed, already absorbed in opening up the weevil. Ianto turned around to see Jack watching them from the observation deck. Ianto climbed the stairs to him, nodding discreetly at the office. Without a word, Jack shoved his hands into his pockets and followed. 

Once the door to the office clicked shut behind them, Ianto turned to Jack, burying his face in Jack's neck. He felt Jack stiffen against him for a moment, before a hand reached up and rubbed at his back, squeezing him close. “Hey, hey. He's just with Tosh for a few hours.”

Ianto pulled back, blue eyes clouded as they looked into Jack's. “I know. I just...worry.”

Jack tugged him away from the door, leading him over to his desk. “Well, that's why you're such a good tad.” With a quick poke at the display screen behind his desk and wink at Ianto, Jack pulled up some CCTV footage. “And _this_ it what makes me such a good _dad_.”

Ianto leaned over Jack, drinking in the sight of Gwil and Toshiko making their way to a picnic table on the edge of the park. Even as a smile forced its way onto Ianto's face, he couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at Jack and mutter: “Using government technology to spy on your son makes you a good dad?”

Jack just grinned, sitting down on his desk. He cleared a place next to him, pushing papers aside and stacking them capriciously across the desk. Making sure to look pointedly at the mess Jack was making, Ianto sat down next to him. They put their feet up on Jack's leather chair, shoulders pressed against each other's as they observed the silent images of Toshiko and Gwil sitting down and spreading paper out in front of them. 

Just as Ianto was thinking he really ought to get some work done, rather than spy on his son – or at least get them some coffee and biscuits – there was a knock at the door. Jack shouted “Come in!” over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the screen. The door swung open, and Ianto turned around in time to see Gwen poke her head in, smiling.

“Not interrupting anything naughty, am I?”

“Only by the most boring definition of naughty, I'm afraid,” Ianto joked. 

Gwen snuck over to the monitor, looking at it. “Is that Tosh and Gwil?”

Ianto nodded. “Tosh is going to teach him letters and maths, so he can attend classes next autumn.”

Gwen suddenly cooed at the screen. Ianto turned back in time to see Gwil organizing big flashcards with fruits on it: one orange, two apples, three pears, &c. He seemed to be doing fairly well – an observation which inspired a swell of pride in Ianto. The pride was quickly tempered by a sharp pain flaring through his arm as Gwen punched him, gesturing at the screen. “Why does Tosh get to have all the fun? I want to play with him!”

Next to him, Jack snorted. “He's not a _toy_ , Gwen.”

Gwen ribbed him back. “I know that, _Jack_.” She rolled her eyes and pointed at the two men. “But how much sunlight does he get down here, hm? How much exercise? Little boys need to run out in the open! You can't keep him cooped up in this dank place.” 

Ianto turned to Gwen, eyeing her suspiciously. “Why are you so interested?”

Suddenly growing an appreciation for her nails, Gwen stared at them before sighing dramatically. “Alright!” She wrung her hands. “I was thinking Rhys and I could take him out, just to a fête or something, and I might get a chance to see how Rhys is with him.” She pointed an accusing finger at Ianto as he raised an eyebrow. “And don't start with me! If you two can have kids, so can the rest of us!”

Jack perked up at this, leaning forward to look at Gwen on the other side of Ianto. “Are you pregnant?”

“What? No!” Gwen's hands flew to her stomach, as though the very question might make it so. “Just...” she glared, though a little coy smile ruined the effect, “Rhys might have mentioned it, a few times...”

“We _do_ have a maternity leave policy, you know.” Even as he said it, Ianto was running through scenarios. If Gwen was off active duty, he'd have to be on. Which means Gwen would be left at the Hub with Gwil. He winced. It wasn't that he didn't _trust_ Gwen...he'd just rather himself or Jack be around in case of an emergency.

Gwen waved her hands at Ianto, jangling bracelets bringing him back to the present. “Plus, I want to be the fun Aunt Gwen. _Please_? I've always wanted to be a fun aunt, but with no brothers or sisters...”

Jack made the decision for them, reaching over and pulling Gwen down onto the desk, so she could watch the CCTV with them. “Gwen, I herby add 'fun aunt' to your job title. Ianto: make a note of it.” Ianto rolled his eyes but smiled at Gwen. It was all well-intentioned, after all. And she was right: Gwil did need to get outside more often. Between taking care of the Hub and taking care of Jack – and all of Jack's unique _needs_ – Ianto could use some help making sure Gwil led a full and healthy life.

He nudged Gwen's shoulder with his own. “D'you think you could take him out next weekend? Rift willing?”

Gwen nodded, wide grin reveal the gap in her teeth. “Sure! The church down the street from our flat is having a fête this weekend! We can take him to eat pies and maybe get something cute from the jumble; he could play some of the games – maybe even get his face painted!”

Ianto was abruptly tugged the opposite direction back Jack pulling on his arm. “I think he just did an addition problem! Look!”

For the next ten minutes the three adults sat, entranced by the CCTV, until Owen's shouting for coffee and an odd police report sent them all hurrying off in different directions. 

**

Ianto was waiting for Toshiko and Gwil in the Tourist Office when they came back. Gwil ran through the door and around the counter, leaping into Ianto's outstretched arms. “Tad! Tad! Ms. Tosh-ko taught me loads!”

After a tight hug, Ianto pushed Gwil away so he could look him in the eye. “Did she?” he shared a quick look at Toshiko, who was smiling down at the two of them.

“He's an extraordinarily fast learner.” She nodded at Gwil. “Aren't you going to show Ia- your tad what you did?”

Gwil's eyes widened, and he moved back from Ianto. With the awkward care of a young child, Gwil set his books and papers down on the ground, riffling through them until he pulled out a brightly colored piece of paper. “Ms. Tosh-ko made me draw my family. And I labeled it, too. Look!” Gwil was pointing almost violently at the painfully scrawled words above each person in the picture. “I made letters!”

As much as Ianto wanted to critically examine the page – look for how his motor skills seemed, ask Toshiko about his ability to retain information, &c. – all he could do was tear up as he clasped the page in shaking hands. There, in bright, primary colored crayon, was Jack, Ianto, Gwil, and Myfanwy. They appeared to be in the Hub, if the dark background and tall objects were anything to go by. Ianto had a vague niggling at the back of his mind that normally kids drew grass and trees and a sun in a blue sky. Maybe it was a good thing Gwen was taking him outside this weekend.

Jack was drawn with spiky, light brown hair. He was dressed in blue, which Ianto could only assume was supposed to represent his greatcoat. Gwil was in the middle, small and smiling. He was holding on both Jack's and Ianto's hands. Ianto had darker hair, same as picture-Gwil's. His outfit seemed to be sort of just a block of black and red. Ianto supposed it was probably normal for a seven-year-old to have problems drawing a three-piece suit. Myfanwy was above the three of them, flying through the air as a green blur.

Ianto opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying desperately to bring himself well enough under control to speak. Toshiko, bless her, touched Gwil's shoulder encouragingly. “Why don't you tell your tad about it?”

Gwil poked at the paper, pointing out each labeled item. “That's dad in his big coat. See: D-A-D. And there's me: G-W-I-L. And there's you, tad: T-A-D. And Myfanwy is up there, but I didn't label it 'cause Ms. Tosh-ko said she didn't know how to spell it.” Gwil looked up at Toshiko, as if seeking confirmation of this. 

She nodded, smiling sheepishly down at Ianto. “Haven't lived in Wales quite long enough to get the hang of the alphabet, I'm afraid.”

With a quick cough to clear his throat, Ianto opened his eyes wide in an effort to erase the tears. “That's so good, Gwil. Why don't you take it down to show dad, and in a minute I'll come down and help you spell Myfanwy, okay?” Gwil beamed up at Ianto, giving him another big hug. Ianto closed his eyes, willing his heart to calm and his emotions to stop pulling him every which way. Then Gwil was dashing away, down the lift and into the Hub. 

With a shaky exhale, Ianto wiped his hands and stood, smiling wetly at Tosh. He clasped his hands together and rubbed them, as if that would somehow calm him. “So. How'd he do?”

To his shock, Ianto was pulled into a hug by Tosh. After a moment of awkward back-patting on Ianto's part, she pulled away. He looked at her carefully. “You don't have a new psychic piece of jewelry, do you? Earrings, this time?”

Tosh laughed, but gripped at Ianto's arm all the same, rubbing it in what he assumed she thought was a reassuring manner. “No, Ianto. But it doesn't take a psychic to see this is tough. After all, you are the _youngest_ of any of us. And you have a kid!”

Ianto shrugged, feeling his face grow hot. “Well, Jack is the oldest by centuries, so I suppose it balances out.” Tosh continued to look at him, and Ianto felt himself grow even redder. What was Toshiko thinking? Because he was twenty-six he couldn't have a kid? His sister had two by his age, and plenty of his old mates were starting families. And this was _Torchwood_ , after all: stranger things had happened. 

Ianto settled on a thin smile, clasping his hand over Toshiko's still gripping his arm. “Really, Tosh: I'm fine. I'm just worried about his development, is all.”

Tosh gave him one last concerned look, before pulling out a legal pad. “His development is fine. Quite speedy, all things considered. Obviously he's behind in everything, but given a year...” Tosh shrugged. “There's no telling after just one day. If I had to just guess, I'd say he'll be fine. But that's just a guess,” she cautioned. 

Ianto let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as they headed down to the Hub. He had been worried there would be some dramatic, noticeable problems with his brain development due to mill life. Something like an inability to reproduce basic shapes, or dyslexia, or a mental block for abstracted numbers. He had read an article once in uni about a town in Mexico or Costa Rica or somewhere, where the children couldn't reproduce the human form in drawings because of poisoning from pesticides. The pictures the children had drawn were disturbing: disjointed sticks and circles, sometimes just random squiggles across the page. The other kids their same age drew basic two armed, two legged people. The images from the article had flashed through Ianto's mind as he had watched Gwil get out his crayons on the CCTV earlier that day.*

But when Gwil had handed Ianto the drawing, an immense sense of relief had washed over him. It was perfectly fine. A bit substandard, but then again Gwil only had nine fingers and had worked in a mill most his life – allowances had to be made. 

“Ianto!”

Ianto blinked, eyes focusing on Jack after just a moment. He was waving at Ianto, holding the picture in one hand and gesturing to it. “Did you see?”

Ianto hurried over to Jack, smiling softly. “I did.”

Jack was beaming. “We have quite the little artist, don't we?” With one arm Jack scooped Gwil up, who giggled and buried his face in Jack's neck. Jack turned back to Ianto, still clutching the picture in his other hand. “I was thinking: fridge?”

Ianto blinked, staring down at the picture. A wider grin spread across his face, until he had to duck down to hide it. He had never even thought about that: displaying Gwil's work on their refrigerator. But that's what parents did, wasn't it? Ianto peered back up at Jack. “Perfect.” He held his arms out, and Jack passed a squirming Gwil to him. “I promised to teach you how to spell Myfanwy, didn't I?” Gwil nodded, holding out his hand for the paper. Jack passed it to him, pulling them both in for a quick kiss before they set off: Gwil on his forehead, Ianto on the lips.

Jack winked as he pulled away. “Going to talk to Tosh. Closing up the Tourist Office?”

Ianto nodded. “One more hour, then I'll be down.”

Ianto waited as Jack held up a hand and spun around, clearly looking for something. He turned on the spot, until he stopped, bounding over to his desk and snatching something from it. He jogged back, pressing a stack of paper and box of crayons into Gwil's hands. He looked Gwil in the eyes as he said: “I want a full fridge worth of pictures by the end of the week, got it?”

Gwil nodded, quite serious in his determination. “'K, dad.”

With one last kiss for Ianto and ruffled hair for Gwil, Jack headed over to Toshiko. Ianto adjusted Gwil in his arms – as small and light as he was, he wasn't exactly a toddler – and started back up to the lift with him. Crayons rattled in their box as they went.  
  


 

*This is a real thing. If you want to see the pictures Ianto is thinking of, go here: <http://superiorsites3.com/NNSp03Porter.htm> . The site also contains a quick overview of the situation surrounding the study.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwil knows how to use the coffee machine. Owen is baffled. Owen's POV.

Owen peered out from the autopsy bay, toward the coffee machine. His eyes were just under the railing, peaking out as he tried to look without being noticeable. He could see it from around the water tower from here, though just barely. 

Most mornings, Owen was interested in the coffee machine from a purely survivalist point of view: he needed coffee to live, and therefore needed to know when Ianto would be getting it to him. This morning, however, was different. This morning he was worried for his life not because of lack of coffee, but because of who was brewing it.

Owen watched as Gwil trotted over the coffee machine, smart little shoes clacking on the metal grated floors of the Hub. Ianto and Jack were watching from Jack's office completely unsubtly. Jack was actually leaning on the doorframe and craning his neck to try and see around the water tower. Owen watched as Ianto excused himself, hurrying away. Ducking back down as he walked past, Owen watched Ianto step smartly up the stairs, in the direction of the hothouse. Owen wasn't fooled. He could hear those footsteps stop well before the hothouse, and could just imagine Ianto looking down at Gwil from his new vantage point.

Speaking of which...Owen turned his attention back to what he could see of the coffee machine. Over the hum of computers and squawk of Myfanwy, Owen imagined he could faintly hear the sound of the machine starting to brew, steaming and rattling around the way it did. His eyebrows lowered as he continued to stare. This could never end well.

**

This whole _debacle_ had started less than a week ago. At least, that was when Owen had first noticed _the stool_. 

The stool had appeared one morning, innocuously taking up residence next to the coffee machine. Owen had only noticed because he was grabbing a sample of Randeran bile out of the fridge to test its acidity levels. Just happening to glance down, Owen had spotted it: a little, wooden, collapsable stool, folded up and tucked away to the side of the coffee machine. That first day, Owen had thought nothing of it: it was a stool, there were things up high, case solved. It wasn't until the second time that Owen encountered the stool that he realized something was about to go horribly, horribly wrong. 

Owen had been strolling over to the snack cabinets above the fridge, hoping to find a biscuit or two to tide him over until lunch. His shin caught on something, and he cursed, clutching it in pain. “What the fucking hell?!”

Owen glanced down sharply, to see the stool sitting out. Ianto had rushed over, dragging Gwil behind him and apologizing as he made Gwil put it away. But Owen stopped them both, grabbing Gwil's wrist as he reached for the stool. “Wait. Wait a minute.” He stared at the stool on the ground. It was covered in loopy, slightly-messy letters, painted on by some hesitant hand. It read “Gwil”.

Turning to look at Ianto, Owen gaped. “Don't tell me you're letting the tyke near the coffee machine?” Lest someone get the wrong idea and think Owen concerned for Ianto's continued coffee-machine dependent happiness, Owen continued. “I mean, just don't want to get poisoned because he confused alien semen with the creamer.”

Judging by the absolutely horrified look on Ianto's face, Owen had put the fear of God in him. Or at least the fear of alien semen-flavored coffee. But then Ianto was wrapping his hand around Gwil's shoulder confidently. “Gwil knows what he's doing.” Owen scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his eyebrows. Ianto just stared back steadily, until a sly little grin crossed his face. “He's prepared your coffee for the last three days, actually. I just supervised.”

Briefly Owen ran through the taste of the coffee in his mind for the past three days. He couldn't recall a difference. Still: “I _knew_ there was something off! I thought it was just you being too tired to stand, but turns out,  it's because mini-Ianto was preparing it!”

Ianto's eyes narrowed, and Owen knew he must have struck a nerve. He leaned back, just a bit. Ianto with Gwil was like a mum bear with her cubs: terrifying and hairy. “Jack and I have  _ personally _ taste-tested all of Gwil's brews, and they are well up to our standards.” Owen started to scoff again, but Ianto leaned in before he completed the derisive noise. “And if you think it's that terrible: there's always instant.”

**

Thus, Owen was watching, with bated breath, as Gwil trekked over to the coffee machine for his first completely solo batch. 

There were several long minutes of clattering and brewing, steam coming out of the machine as Gwil hopped on and off his stool to get the things he needed. Owen continued to glare at the machine. How could a seven-year-old work it at all? Hell, he couldn't work it, and he was a fully skilled surgeon. There was no way little Gwil would manage.

Tosh and Gwen came in during the interval, cheerily announcing good morning to everyone as they set about sorting their workload. After a quick systems check, Tosh walked over to Owen, crouching down delicately in her skirt. “Nervous?”

Owen shot her a look, smirking and shaking his head. “For my taste buds? Yeah. But if it's shite, I'll just upend it over Ianto's head.”

Tosh nodded, tapping a finger to her chin in mock-contemplation. “I suppose that might get the message across.” She paused before continuing. “Rather unsubtle though, don't you think?”

Owen twitched his eyebrows moodily. “Not subtle enough, if Ianto really thinks this is a good idea.”

He was rewarded with an awkward pat on his shoulder by Tosh, who then stood up and went back over to her workstation. “It's going to be fine,” she reassured him.

But it wasn't going to be _fine_. Owen was sure of it. The little munchkin was going to _ruin_ the _only thing_ Ianto did right around this blasted place. Well, the only thing Ianto did right for _Owen_. He suspected Ianto did a good many things right for _Jack_ , if the continuance of their...whatever they had...was any indication. 

A sudden stillness filled the Hub, jerking Owen out of his thoughts. The coffee machine was quiet.

God save them all. 

Owen glared from under the railing as the distinctive noise of ceramics clinking on a silver tray reached his ears. Gwil slowly came into view, carrying the tray with both hands as he tottered across the metal-grated floor. He stopped at Toshiko's desk first, nodding his head at her mug since he couldn't lift it up himself. She took it, thanking him politely and stroking his hair. Gwen jogged over, then, coming up from some of the lower levels. She took her mug from the tray with a big, gaped-tooth smile as she thanked Gwil.

Then it was Owen's turn. 

For a moment as Gwil started over to his autopsy bay, Owen had the sudden urge to look busy, in order to disguise the fact that he had been spying. Then he remembered this was just a seven-year-old boy, and stood his ground. 

Above him, Gwil paused at the railing, glancing over at the stairs and down at Owen. After a minute's consideration, Gwil turned, making to walk down the stairs with the tray. Owen sighed, scrambling over and holding his hands out. “No. Wait. Don't need you tripping down the stairs and busting your head open.” Owen jogged up the stairs to Gwil, taking his mug off the tray so quickly that Gwil had to fight to keep it balanced. “Don't need your dads screaming at me as I'm trying to patch up your skull.”

Owen winked as he said it, meaning it to be a joke, but Gwil just lowered his eyes and nodded. With a slight wobble, the little boy turned, heading over to Jack's office next. 

Owen sighed, subconsciously taking a sip of his coffee as he watched the little figure walk carefully away. Jack really needed to influence the kid more: take him out to sports, cinema, maybe eat some junk – Owen reeled as delicious coffee flooded his taste buds. Startled, he started down at the coffee, trying to convince his brain that it wasn't Ianto's. But it tasted _just like_ Ianto's. Absolutely identical. Owen glared at Gwil's back, who was now offering his tray to Jack. He took his coffee with a big, goofy grin, ruffling Gwil's hair and tugging on his earlobe for good measure. Hearing footsteps behind him, Owen spun around to see Ianto stepping off the stairs and down to the main Hub. A proud little smile was graced his lips.

“Good, Owen?”

Owen sputtered. What could he say? Finally he settled on a noncommittal shrug. “It'll keep me awake, I suppose. Best I can hope for, isn't it?” He then stomped back down into his autopsy bay, fiddling with saws and scalpels as he listened in on Jack and Ianto. 

“Well?” he heard Ianto ask Jack. “Is it up to standards?”

Owen felt a small thrill of satisfaction at the slight nervous note in Ianto's voice. 

“Oh, Ianto! It's perfect! Identical to yours. Well...” Owen practically leaned backwards trying to hear Jack's caveat. “Identical to your _normal_ coffee, at least.”

The leer in Jack's voice left no room for speculation as to what sort of “special” coffee he might be thinking of. Owen gagged.

Jack was continuing. “You've turned Gwil into quite the little barista.” 

Owen heard Ianto's self-satisfied hum, and could only assume he was taking a sip of his coffee. Pounding back a mouthful of his own, Owen tried to ignore how perfect it was. 

“Don't forget you have to feed Myfanwy at eleven,” Owen heard Ianto say, presumably to Gwil. Owen took another large swallow of his coffee.

“Doctor Owen?”

Owen spun around, only to come face-to-face with Gwil, who was crouching by the railings and leaning his head through them. “What?” Owen asked slightly more harshly than he might have. After all, the kid did call him “Doctor”. No one did that around here.

“Do you need more?”

Owen glanced down to his hand, where he was clenching an empty coffee mug. With great reluctance he let his eyes drift up to Ianto, who was standing in Jack's doorway looking insufferably smug. With a growl Owen shoved the mug at Gwil. “Well, go on then. Least you're pulling your own weight around here.”

Owen turned back to his work with the sound of Jack's chuckle filling the Hub. 

The coffee really _was_ that good, though.  
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ianto take a moment to enjoy their soundproofed walls...

Ianto moaned, threading his hands through Jack's hair as his head bobbed up and down between Ianto's legs. _Fuck_ , Jack's mouth was absolutely amazing. Ianto arched into that wet heat as Jack sank down again, tonguing the vein on the underside enthusiastically. “Jack, Jack,” Ianto tapped at Jack's head. With slow deliberateness Jack pulled off, staring at Ianto the whole time with lusty eyes. The tension in Ianto's body eased as Jack's lips finally slid off the head with a soft _pop_. Ianto smiled down at Jack. “Sorry. But if you want to actually have sex, I had to stop you there.”

Jack winked. “It's fine. I know how orgasm-inducing my mouth is.”

If he hadn't been so _right_ , Ianto might have said something. But as it was, Ianto just pulled Jack up into a kiss, sighing as their erections met.

“Hey, Ianto?” Ianto blinked staring up at Jack. He smiled a little sheepishly. “Do you mind if I top tonight?”

Staring up at Jack, Ianto raised his eyebrows but nodded quickly. “Of course, Jack.” It might be different from their normal routine, but it wasn't like Ianto _minded_ Jack fucking him. Not in the least. In fact, sometimes it was preferable to let Jack do all the work for a change.

Jack shifted above Ianto, reaching over to the side table to grab the lube. With a smirk he held the tube away from Ianto, waggling his eyebrows as he drifted back down. “Legs up.”

Ianto sighed contentedly as he lifted his legs, resting his calves on Jack's shoulders and back. Jack tugged him down a little bit, pulling them closer together. Between the Rift and Gwil, it wasn't often anymore that they got to have long, relaxing sex; more often than not now they subsisted off the mutual shower wank or quick fuck between sleep and running themselves ragged. Ianto could see why Jack wanted to be on top tonight: he wanted to make sure they took their time and enjoyed every minute of it. 

When Ianto felt hot wetness press against his entrance, he arched and groaned. “Ah, Jack.” Jack's tongue swiped a few firm strokes against the puckered flesh, causing Ianto to moan and reach down to tangle his fingers in Jack's hair. “Mm, Jack. 'S nice...” The tongue pressed in, past the tight muscles to stroke at the hot passage within. Ianto cried out, fingers twisting and clenching at Jack's hair as he tongue-fucked him with smooth, even strokes. 

“Fuck, Jack, please...” Relaxing and taking their time was well and good, but Ianto needed Jack _now_. 

With a grin Jack pulled away, wiping the back of his hand across his lips. “Good thing we got the walls soundproofed, huh?”

Ianto knew his smiling expression was entirely too debauched and stupid-happy, but he couldn't stop himself. “So good. Now please, Jack?” Ianto slid a hand down himself, reaching for his arousal lying heavy on his stomach. Jack stopped him with a hand around his wrist, even as he uncapped the lube with his other.

“Alright, Ianto. I've got you.” Jack leaned forward to clutch at Ianto and kissed him as he pushed a single slicked digit inside. Ianto relaxed against the finger easily, muscles already gooey with satisfaction. Another finger quickly followed the first, stretching and loosening the muscles. Ianto canted down on the fingers, rocking against them steadily as he reached down and encouraged a third. It pushed in, burning more than the first two as Jack carefully move it in and out. Ianto broke the kiss, turning his head to the side as he focused on relaxing beneath Jack. A firm hand wrapping around his cock helped matters, as did Jack's lips on his neck. “Good?”

Ianto undulated against the fingers one, two, three times before nodding. “Good, Jack.”

 _Finally_ Jack's hot arousal replaced his fingers, pushing into Ianto fuller, better – _oh_ _so much better –_ than his fingers could. Ianto pushed down, sheathing Jack inside, as he let out a deep, throaty moan. As they began to move together, Ianto felt all his worries, stress, and anxieties melt away as his entire world narrowed to their bed, Jack, and the feel of Jack inside him. Jack's thrusts were firm and powerful, pushing Ianto up against the pillows with each plunge in.

Jack's fingers dug into Ianto's flanks and arse, pulling him closer and holding him firm as he increased the pace of his thrusts. Ianto reached down and covered Jack's hand with his own. Each thrust sent Ianto spiraling further and further toward that perfect completion, drawing his body tauter and tauter with anticipation. “Oh, _Jack_ ,” he moaned.

“Ianto,” Jack whispered back.

“Tad?”

“Fuck!” Ianto shoved Jack off of him, practically throwing him off the bed. They scrambled apart, clutching at blankets and pillows as Ianto pushed himself upright to face the bleary-eyed little boy standing in their doorway. 

For a split second Ianto silently bemoaned the loss of the _fantastic_ orgasm he had been chasing. The moment passed, leaving him staring, red-faced and sweaty, at a scared little boy. Jack spoke first, already slipped into a pair of boxers and walking over to the boy in the doorway. “What's up, champ?”

“Bad dream,” Gwil murmured, staring down at the floor. Hesitantly he glanced up at Jack, then over at Ianto. “Is Tad okay?”

Ianto frowned. “I'm fine. Why? Did something happen in your dream?” Ianto climbed out of bed with the blanket wrapped around him, settling on his haunches in front of Gwil. “Because it's just a dream. It can't hurt you.” Ianto thought he was a rather wise father to not mention the alien parasite that burrowed into a person's mind and manifested REM sleep to the point that nightmares could indeed kill. He could save that discussion for later. 

But Gwil was shaking his head, turning to point at Jack. “I thought Dad hurted you. You made hurt noises.”

Ianto was fairly certain he had never turned so red in all his life, and was willing to put a great deal of money that he never would again. Above them, Jack started laughing before Ianto could stop him. Ianto smiled thinly at Gwil. “No. We were...erm...doing grown-up things. Nice grown-up things.”

Gwil's eyes widened. “ _Oh_. You were doing the thing the big kids do behind the factory. The int-ah-thing.” Gwil frowned, glancing back over at the bed. “Thought you had to stand.”

Ianto tugged at his earlobe, deciding to address one issue at a time. “Intercourse?” he ventured.

Gwil nodded, quite serious. “Yes.”

Jack was busy being the least serious person in the room, chuckling to himself as he observed the mayhem. Ianto stood up suddenly, pushing the other man toward the kitchen. “Why don't you make Gwil some hot cocoa and give him the  _ talk _ .” Ianto plucked at the sheet covering him. “I'll get into something more appropriate.”

Jack winked as he herded Gwil in front of him, closing their bedroom door behind them.

Ianto, not wanting to leave Gwil alone for too long with Jack when he had just given him permission to talk sex, quickly shucked on a dressing gown and tossed the sheet back on the bed. With one last glance down at his flaccid penis – he suppressed the urge to pat it comfortingly – Ianto hurried out into the kitchen.

“So that's with a women. But your tad and I don't have a vagina, because we're both men. So instead, we use our ass for sex.”

Ianto slid into the chair next to Jack, letting his head fall to the table with a quiet  _ thump _ . “Don't suppose you made me some tea?”

Something warm slid closer to his head over the table. Ianto peeked out cautiously, to see a nice, steaming cuppa next to him. Jack smiled. “To tide you over.”

Taking a sip, Ianto sighed. He wrapped his hands around the mug, enjoying the warmth seeping into his palms. Fall was settling in, and alien technology or no, some of the damp reached them in Jack's bunker. Ianto watched as Jack turned back to a wide-eyed Gwil. “Where was I?” Gwil looked ready to open his mouth, but Jack waved his hand and started up again. “Right, right: the ass. See, the same way a woman has a clitoris, a man has a special spot inside him: his prostate. That's located in the ass. Well, specifically,” Jack started to gesture, so Ianto reached over and covered Jack's hand with his own.

“I think we'll leave him to figure the specifics of it for himself if the situation ever comes up, yeah?”

Jack shrugged. “Fine. But remember how much instruction you needed to first time you tried to-”

“ _ Jack _ !” Ianto hissed. He knew he should have never left Jack to this conversation.

But Jack was already turning back to Gwil, ready to explain more. “So, when two men have sex, one of the men puts his penis in the asshole of the other, just like when it's a man and a woman and the man puts his penis in the woman's vagina.” He paused, cocking his head. “Do you think he needs to know the mechanics of lesbian sex? It  _ could _ come in handy...”

Ianto thumped his mug down on the table, staring pointedly at Jack. “Conversation best left for later, I would think.”

Jack mock-pouted. “Well at least let me explain tentacles to him.”

“Right. That's education enough for tonight.” Ianto reached his hands out and covered Gwil's with his own. His thumb subconsciously rubbed over the scarred skin from Gwil's mill accident. “Do you understand everything? That dad wasn't hurting me? It was...nice?” Ianto hesitated, glancing over at Jack. He was never one to stroke Jack's ego – man didn't need any help – but he wanted to make sure Gwil was reassured. “I liked what dad and I were doing: you understand?”

Gwil nodded firmly. “Yes. I seen sex 'fore. Just thought you had to stand.” 

Ianto blushed, while at the same time trying to glare at Jack so he wouldn't say another word. He finally settled on: “Only if you want to. You can lie down, too.”

This seemed to settle the issue for Gwil, and he took a last gulp of his cocoa before taking it carefully over to the sink. He couldn't wash the mug himself yet – not being high enough to see over the counter – but he placed it next to the sink and pushed it back, away from the edge. He turned back to the two men, wrapping his arms around Ianto first, before moving on to Jack and hugging him as well. “Night: Tad, Dad.” Gwil seemed to have forgotten entirely about his nightmare as he padded quietly back to his room, hand held to his mouth as he nibbled at the scarred space. Ianto noticed that he had started doing that absently when he was thinking.

Jack's warm chuckle started up again as soon as the door shut to Gwil's bedroom. Ianto quickly put a stop to it, rising from his chair and settling in Jack's lap, kissing him soundly. Jack hummed into the kiss, and when Ianto eventually pulled away, his eyes had lost their mirth and gained a sparkle of lust. With a coy look, Ianto rose, glancing back over at Jack as he headed to their bedroom. “Coming back to bed?”

Jack was out of his seat in an instant, bounding over to Ianto and wrapping him up in his arms. “We can talk to him more later, right? Because I didn't get to blow jobs, or frotting, or-”

Ianto sighed, shutting – and _locking_ – the door behind them. “I don't think he needs to know all of that yet. He's only seven.”

But Jack was kissing Ianto's neck, nibbling and licking at the sensitive flesh there. “You didn't let me finish. I was going to say: I hadn't even gotten to blow jobs, frotting, or _rimming_ , even.” Ianto melted against the door as Jack's tongue started to lave its way down his body. After a single swipe up his shaft, Jack glanced back up at Ianto. “Don't you think that's important?”

Reaching down, Ianto hauled Jack up by his shoulders and backed him up to the bed. They fell down onto it together, Ianto grinding against Jack like some horny teenager. “It's important, Jack,” Ianto reassured him, crawling up the mattress until he was nestled on a pile of pillows, splayed for Jack's appreciation on his back. Somewhere between door and bed Ianto's dressing gown and Jack's boxers had disappeared, and Ianto drank in the view of Jack's hard cock bobbing between his legs as he climbed up to Ianto. “Just, maybe not at seven.”

Ianto hissed as Jack licked another stripe up his shaft, lips closing around the head of his increasingly-interested penis as he began to suck lightly. To Ianto's infinite annoyance, Jack released him with a quiet _pop_ , grinning up at him maddeningly. “How about at twenty-six?”

Ianto pushed Jack's head back down, earning him a laugh from the other man. “Yes, yes: very important then.” Ianto's eyes fluttered closed as Jack hauled his legs up and dove between them, wet, hot tongue lapping at his still-stretched entrance. As that tongue slowly pressed inside of him, Ianto moaned and sighed, clutching first at the bedsheets and then at Jack's hair. His hips undulated down onto Jack, thrusting lazily against that tongue and those lips. Jack's strong arms kept their grip under Ianto's thighs, pulling him apart as he pushed his tongue even further into him. Ianto cried out as that tongue and mouth penetrated him, drawing his muscles tighter toward climax. 

Sure that Jack would pull away soon and enter him properly, Ianto was caught off-guard by the slick finger that slipped in alongside Jack's tongue. Ianto cried out again, louder, as Jack's tongue continued to lap at his passageway even as his finger pushed against that perfect spot within him. “Jack, _Jack_ , can't...please...” Ianto wasn't sure if he was beginning for release or for Jack to stop, but Jack seemed to know exactly what he wanted. The first finger was replaced by a second, the two of them pressing and massaging at the gland deep inside of him, sending sparks of pleasure through his system. Jack's tongue just inside his entrance was a slow burn compared to the flashes of fire his fingers were producing. It was through the haze of pleasure that this onslaught was wringing out of him that Ianto came, shouting hoarsely as he folded in on himself, body shaking as muscles spasmed through the the intolerable pleasure.

Ianto's head lolled to the side, his entire body loose-limbed and satiated. His eyes fluttered open, to be greeted by the sight of Jack looking incredibly pleased with himself. Ianto blinked, slowly, before reaching a hand down to rub Jack's forearm. “Go on,” he said, canting his hips up. “You still need to get off.”

Slowly, Jack's grin broadened, until Ianto felt his stomach clench at the sight. If Jack's wicked grin was anything to go by, that was only to be his first orgasm of a very, very long night.  
  
  



	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwil has a nightmare and overhears a conversation he doesn't fully understand. Gwil POV.

 

Gwil started awake in his big, empty bed. The darkness around him moved, bringing life to the nightmare still buzzing through his mind. Mill owners and foremen and big boys danced in front of his eyes, reaching out and snatching at his pajamas in the darkness. The growls of machinery and angry men mixed in his mind, echoing through the barrier of wakefulness. With a whimper, Gwil hopped out of his bed and pushed open his door. He padded through the kitchen to his tad and dad's room, where light was spilling through the slightly ajar door.

He could hear low voices coming from the room, and he paused, listening in. Too many times in his old life he had gotten in trouble for showing up in the middle of a conversation he shouldn't have, or learned a life-saving piece of information from one of those conversations. Eavesdropping had become as vital a skill to him as nimble fingers and quick eyes. He sank down to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees as he listened in.

“-don't like you having to come back on your own.” That was his tad, Gwil knew. He shifted so he could peer into the room through the crack. He could see his dad and tad propped up in their bed. His dad looked sick: pale and sweaty. He was lying with his back against Tad's chest, who was running a soothing hand through his hair.

Dad spoke next, voice barely a weak croak. It was nothing like how he normally sounded: the loud, happy voice that equal parts comforted and intimidated Gwil. “Well I don't need you putting yourself in harm's way just to be at my side when I come back.”

Both men's eyes were closed. Tad shifted, nuzzling his nose against Dad's hair. “Will you let me as long as I promise to only when it's safe?”

“Of course.”

There was a long pause, and Gwil almost uncurled himself from the floor to let himself in. But then Tad shifted, frowning before he spoke. “We're going to have to tell Gwil eventually.”

Gwil twitched at hearing his name. Dad moved, opening his eyes as he tried to turn around in Tad's grip. But Tad just held him tight, rubbing a hand up and down his arm until he settled. “Not yet. He wouldn't even understand it at his age.”

“You underestimate him.” Judging from his tone of voice, Gwil thought that Tad might be saying something nice about him, so he smiled in the half-light from his parents' bedroom.

“He won't notice that I'm not aging. Not yet.”

“But what happens if you die in front of him?” Dad made a disgruntled sound, but Tad continued. “It's Torchwood, Jack. It could happen. How am I supposed to keep him calm if you die? Or keep him from being terrified when you come back? What if he does something rash, because he doesn't know? As he gets older...”

“Please, Ianto?” Dad's voice sounded so weak; it made Gwil nervous. “Just...not yet. Just give me a few years of pretending to be normal?”

“Gwil is a Rift victim from eighteen forty-eight, his parents work in a giant underground base and the closest thing he has to a pet is a pteranodon. I think you might have failed at 'pretending to be normal' quite a few oddities back.”

Whatever Dad said next was too quiet for Gwil to catch, but it made Tad laugh. Gwil shifted forward, trying to hear more, when he overbalanced and fell into the door, pushing it open. He heard rustling from the direction of the bed. Before he could even right himself, strong arms were lifting him, and he found his tad holding him close as he peered down worriedly. “Gwil? What's the matter?”

Gwil glanced back at the door, where he could see the darkness from their rooms creeping in. He snuggled against Tad, burying his face in his nightshirt. “Bad dream. Cwtsh?”

He felt himself being carried across the room, then Tad shifting onto the bed. Dad was there, running a big hand through his hair. “Cwtsh?”

Above him, Tad replied: “Cuddle. He had a bad dream.”

There was some shifting and adjusting as the two men and one little boy tried to get comfortable on the bed. After a few moments of crawling around on the bed, Gwil found himself being lifted and placed onto the pillows. He peeked out above the piles of pillows to see his tad looking at him bemusedly, while his dad looked on with a grin. “He's small enough to just sleep up there without getting between us. And then I don't need to worry about rolling over and crushing him in my sleep.”

Tad snorted, but then leaned forward to give Gwil a kiss on the forehead before lying down onto the pillows. “Do you think you could fall asleep there, Gwil?”

Gwil crawled around once in a circle on the pillows, before settling down: wedging himself beneath one pillow and on top of another. He looked back up at Tad and nodded from his pillow-enveloped position.

“Go to sleep, champ.” Dad's voice, though still weak, was regaining some of its usual vibrance. A big hand covered Gwil's head, ruffling his hair before he settled in next to Tad. Gwil kept his eyes open for as long as he could, watching as Dad and Tad shifted until they were curled up around each other: Tad lying on his stomach, half on the bed and half on Dad's chest; Dad on his back, a single arm curled around tad and holding him close. Dad looked tired, but his eyes were still open when Gwil's started to fall closed. The last thing Gwil remembered before he fell asleep was Dad humming a lullaby that sounded of long ago and far away.  
  
  


 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwil joins a kid's footie team.

 

 

Jack swung the wheel to the right, almost two-wheeling the SUV around the corner. The other two passengers in the car flew to their lefts, propelled by centrifugal force.

“Jack!” Ianto was gripping the above-window handle in one hand and Jack's thigh in his other. “Don't you think you should drive a little more cautiously with Gwil in the car?”

Jack glanced in the backseat through the review mirror, shooting the wide-eyed boy a grin. “We don't want to be late to his first footie practice, do we? And besides: he's fine. Aren't you, champ?”

A whimper drifted up from the backseat, but then Gwil's tiny voice piped up: “Yes, dad.”

Jack ignored the _look_ he knew Ianto was shooting him, as he pushed the car up over a curb and onto the grassy parking lot before the football field. The car skidded to a halt over moist grass, clumps of dirt spattering against the wheel-well. Jack ignored another look being sent his way and hopped out of the car, greatcoat billowing out behind him in the slight breeze of the cool almost-summer day. 

Ianto was already around back, hauling two chairs and a cooler out of the boot, while Jack opened the back door and held his hands out to Gwil. “Come on, little man. Let's get you to practice.”

Gwil undid his seatbelt and crawled along the seat, allowing Jack to scoop him up and plop him onto the grass. Gwil stared down for a moment, lifting his feet in turn and watching as the cleats sunk into the moist dirt. He started stomping slowly, kicking up grass and mud with increasing delight. 

“Gwil. Manners.” Ianto shoved the bundle of chairs into Jack's arms as he reached down and grabbed Gwil's hand, adjusting the cooler in his other. Immediately Gwil stopped stomping, following Ianto calmly over to the coach. 

Jack set up their chairs in a prime position on the sidelines, grinning broadly at the other parents doing the same. He knew he and Ianto made an odd couple: not only were they same-sex – thankfully, not as problematic as it used to be, though still liable to raise a few eyebrows – but Jack knew he looked ten (certainly not fifteen) years older than Ianto. Plus, with him in his greatcoat, and Ianto in a jumper, tie, and slacks, they certainly didn't look ready for a day at the football field. 

By the time Jack had set up the two collapsable chairs, Ianto was squelching back over to him, heavy cooler in one hand causing him to sink slightly into the ground. He set it down between the two chairs, nodding at Jack as he straightened. “Everything's sorted with the coach. Practice runs about an hour and a half.” He nodded at Jack's wrist strap. “Remote monitoring on?”

Jack rolled his eyes, patting the chair in a brusque invitation to sit. Ianto complied, but continued to look at Jack until he nodded. “Yes, Ianto. Don't worry. Tosh and Gwen are at the Hub, remote monitoring is on, and Gwil knows to come running if he hears us call.” Reaching over the cooler, Jack took the other man's hand in his. “We're fine.”

Ianto's features were still drawn tight in a small, worried frown, but he nodded, squeezing Jack's hand in a sign of trust. 

As they watched Gwil race around the field, doing wind sprints, ball-handling and goal-scoring drills, Jack felt himself relax in the cool, bright day. The clouds from the previous night had moved on, letting the sun warm the area as much as it could in early May. Warm weather was definitely on its way, though: Jack was almost tempted to take his greatcoat off and roll up his shirtsleeves. Almost.

On the field, Gwil slipped as he hefted a leg back to kick, going flying onto his rump and spraying mud everywhere. Next to him, Ianto jumped forward, stopped only by Jack's hand gripping his wrist. “Wait.”

Ianto seemed beside himself – over grass stains or concern for their son, Jack wasn't positive, though he felt it was probably the latter – but stayed seated, entire body tense. Sure enough, a moment later Gwil jumped up, laughing and holding his muddy hands out to one of the other boys on the field. He turned and scanned the sidelines, looking for his parents, until his eyes settled on the two men. Despondently he wiped at his bum, plucking at his clothes in what appeared to be an attempt at an apology to Ianto. Jack just waved vigorously, giving Gwil a thumb's up and shouting “Eye on the ball, Gwil! And feet under your head!”

Gwil, apparently bolstered by the lack of scolding over his dirty clothes, returned the wave before dashing off to the back of the line of boys, leaning to watch none-so-subtly as he waited for his next go at the goal.

Jack let go of Ianto's wrist, thumb sliding over it soothingly as he did. “See? What'd I tell you?”

“I suppose...” Ianto's expression softened as he watched Gwil chat animatedly with another boy on the team, the two of them waving their arms and kicking their legs in what seemed to be a dramatic reenactment of Gwil's tumble, though Gwil was a great deal more subdued than the other boy. “He does appear to be making friends.”

“See? And isn't that why you wanted him on the team in the first place?”

Ianto was quiet as serious eyes followed Gwil around the field. “That and the fresh air. And exercise. Can't be good for a child: being cooped up in the Hub all day.”

Jack relaxed into his little cloth chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Well, when he starts school in autumn he'll spend plenty of time outside the Hub.”

At the mention of school Ianto's expression immediately clouded over again. Jack cast about quickly for a change in subject. “Here,” he opened the cooler and pulled out two drinks: beer for Ianto, water for himself. “Relax a little. It's our day off.”

With seeming reluctance Ianto took the beer, cracking it open and glancing once at Jack before taking a sip. Jack grinned, taking a mirroring drink from his bottle of water. After a few more sips Ianto did seem to relax more, easing down in his chair a bit and stretching his legs out, similarly to Jack. “It's warming up,” he commented after a minute.

Jack barked out a laugh, eyes twinkling. “Look at us: saviors of the universe, talking about the weather and taking our son to football practice.”

Ianto's small but genuine answering grin warmed Jack's heart. “Never would have thought it possible.” At that moment, Jack's wrist strap beeped, and Ianto's face fell. “Spoke too soon, haven't I?”

But Jack was shaking his head as he looked at the readings. “It's just a weevil. Hang on, let me get Gwen.” Jack tapped his comm, turning slightly away from Ianto. “Gwen? Tosh? You getting this?”

Loud panting filled his ear, and a moment later Gwen's voice came through, a little too loud. “Fine! It's fine. It ran right in front of me as I was heading to interview the kid who reported the sighting from two nights ago.” 

Jack frowned, turning even more away from Ianto as movement flickered at the corner of his eye. He refused to let the other man leave over something Gwen had already taken care of. They were spending this day as a normal(-ish) family if Jack had any say in it. “You're fine? No injuries, don't need to call in Owen?”

“Nope!” Gwen's voice was returning back to a reasonable volume as her breathing grew steadier. “Already hooded and in the trunk. Pink-UFO young man will have to wait a little while longer, I'm afraid. I'm taking the weevil back to the Hub now and putting it in a cell for Owen to tag tomorrow.”

Jack nodded sharply, bringing his hand up to his opposite ear. Ianto was saying something, but Jack was trying to focus on Gwen. “Sounds good. See you girls in an hour or so.” With that, Jack ended the communication, turning back to Ianto. “Alright, what did you-” Jack stopped as he noticed two women and a man standing next to Ianto, who was also standing and looking exasperatedly at Jack.

Ianto smiled weakly at Jack. “Some of the other parents came over and introduced themselves.”

The single man in the group waved a can of beer at Jack. “And we swear, it wasn't to take advantage of your hospitality. That was just a bonus.”

Turning up the charm, Jack quickly collected himself and stuck out his hand. “Captain Jack Harkness.”

The man shook it, smiling back. “Dafydd Thomas.”

Jack turned to the two women, kissing their hands in turn. One of the women blushed and preened under the attention, the other just raised an eyebrow in a “we are not amused” sort of way and glanced pointedly over at Ianto. The blushing women introduced herself as Alis Evans, and the no-nonsense one was “Llewella Talog, no relation to the actress, before you even start.”

Jack raised his eyebrows, but decided to persist in his charm. “Well, I wouldn't have thought that. You're much more beautiful than Myfanwy.” Jack shared a little secret smile with Ianto, who rolled his eyes but lips quirked all the same.

The woman gave him another knowing look, but there seemed to be a sort of good-natured dryness behind it, so Jack decided to let her be – for now. The man, Dafydd, nodded over at Ianto. “We were just talking to your partner here, asking him about the boy you've got out there. I noticed he's got that finger missing: you adopt him from a bad home?”

Ianto's eyes locked with Jack's: scared and pleading and completely at a loss. Jack hesitated for just a moment, but it was long enough for Alis to speak up. “Excuse my brother: he's got no sense. He didn't mean it to be rude or nosy: just concern for the poor dear. He must have been through a lot.”

Jack spoke up then, waving a hand dismissively. “No, nothing like that. Just a...accident on...the playground. When he was younger. It doesn't bother him now.” 

Jack could see Ianto visibly relax at his response before he regained his composure. “Alis and Dafydd are brother and sister: had their sons just a few months apart from each other.”

Jack nodded, feigning interest. “Must be nice. The...” What were the relations caused in this era? Right: “...cousins must be close, being the same age.”

Alis nodded, moving a little closer to Jack. “It is nice. I'm glad they don't go to the same school, though: it'd be too much like having a sibling in your year, and that just ends up terribly competitive. The way it is, they can play with each other without the pressure.”

“Get up, Owen! You've just got a scratch! Oh, for...” Llewella sighed and turned to the adults. “Sorry, hang on.” She jogged out to the field, crouching in front of a little boy who was crying on the ground and holding his knee. A minute later she was back, throwing her hands up. “I swear, I prayed to God for boys so I'd have children who would get dirty and play rough and then grow up to be brilliant engineers, maybe work for Richard Branson. What do I get?” She waved her hand at the field, where the boy was limping exaggeratedly back into the pack of children. “A little boy who's almost certainly going to end up a twink by the time he's fifteen and a girl that wants to be a _photographer_.” The women sighed again, then waved a hand at Ianto and Jack. “Not that I mean any offense. You two seem nice and...strapping.”

Jack laughed as he watched Ianto struggle to stifle the same reaction. “You people and your boxes...” He hesitated, glancing over at Ianto when he realized he might have said too much. “By which I mean you Welsh people. I'm from...California.”

Llewella shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. “I know my kids, is all I'm saying. That boy is as fey as they come.” She shook her head. “Suppose I'll have to give in. Maybe next year I'll let him do the back-to-school shopping with me. Pick out some pretty...scarfs...or something.”

Once again, Alis came to the rescue, changing the subject. “That's a rather fancy car you boys have there.”

“Company car,” Ianto immediately replied. He glanced at Jack, hesitating as he drew the next sentence out slowly. “We're...civil servants...”

Dafydd snorted, nodding at the SUV. “Sure. And I'm King of Wales. You do realize you've got 'Torchwood' etched into the side of the bonnet, donch'ya?” 

Jack groped around for an answer. Llewella snorted, eyes fixed on the field. “Torchwood's 'civil service'. They just fancy themselves James Bond.”

Ianto self-consciously straightened his tie as a flush rose in his cheeks. Jack made a mental note to make Ianto feel  _exactly_ as suave as James Bond when they were alone later that night. Dafydd crumpled his can and handed it back to Ianto. “You wouldn't have another to spare, would you?”

With that, the five adults seemed to come to some sort of equilibrium as they settled into chatting about all sorts and sundry, to be only occasionally interrupted by Llewella's shouts or groans of embarrassment. Dafydd and Ianto shared four more beers between them, Alis drinking perhaps half a can of stolen sips from her brother's. Llewella started smoking after checking that no one would be bothered, and proceeded to chain smoke the rest of the practice, hand pressed to her forehead with cigarette dangling between its fingers whenever Owen did something exceptionally awful. After an hour of watching Owen trip over his own feet and cry two more times, Jack had to at the very least agree with Llewella's assessment that sport was not little Owen's calling. He made a note to take video sometime and tease their Owen back at Torchwood with it. 

Once the coach released the children, the parents parted ways, scooping up muddy little kids in their arms and piling them into cars. Ianto carefully patted Gwil's head, holding him at arm's length. Jack had to admit that he had managed to get  _exceptionally_ muddy. “Don't get into the SUV until I put the towel down, okay?”

Gwil nodded, big eyes looking up at Ianto expectantly. “Did you see me, tad?”

Ianto seemed at a loss for a moment, before he smiled down at him. “Yes. You did a good job. Four goals: that's more than I would have made at your age.”

Gwil beamed under the praise, turning to Jack. “Did you see, dad? I slipped and got muddy.” He said it almost quietly, as if he was uncertain whether or not Jack would see the joy in the situation that he did.

“You sure did!” Jack ruffled Gwil's hair roughly. “Now let your tad get you buckled up while I pack up here.” As Gwil and Ianto headed over to the car, Jack folded up the chairs, tucking them under one arm and lifting the now empty cooler with the other. He had stored them in the boot of the SUV and shut the door by the time Ianto shut the passenger door, Gwil buckled up and mud-covered body safely sat on top of a towel. The two men slid into their seats up front, and Jack started the drive home.

Gwil chattered more than Jack had ever heard him speak in one sitting on the ride back, describing in perfect detail everything he learned on the field that day: the new terms, how to kick, how goals worked, the different positions he could play, &c. Once he was finished with his report on the mechanics of football, he continued on to describe, in excruciating detail, every other child he had met and talked with. “'nd they don't even work, tad. They say they watch telly 'nd go to school. 'nd if they don't do that, they just play.”

Ianto nodded next to Jack, eyes getting that softly sad look they got whenever Gwil mentioned his days at the mill. “I'm sure they have chores, same as you.”

Gwil shook his head vigorously. “All they do is clean their rooms.” At his tad's momentary silence, Gwil hurried on. “But I don't mind my chores. I like helping you with Myfanwy and the coffee.” 

As they pulled into the underground garage to the Hub, Ianto unbuckled his seatbelt and turned around. “Clothes off before you go inside. Drop them by the laundry machine. Then straight into the shower.”

Jack grinned, unbuckling as well and leaning over to kiss Ianto. “Wouldn't mind following those orders myself...”

Ianto kissed him back briefly, rolling his eyes and grinning as he opened his door. “Gwen and Tosh are inside, Jack: don't need to give them an eyeful.”

Outside the SUV, Gwil was carefully undoing his cleats, shirt already shucked off and lying in a heap next to the washing machine. Ianto squatted down to help him, yanking off the shin-guards and tube socks after the shoes came off. Shorts and pants flew off, and Gwil went racing into the Hub before Ianto could toss a towel at him. Jack grinned as the younger man sighed and started piling muddy clothes into the wash. As he reached for the Tide – grass-stain formula, specifically bought when Ianto and Jack decided to enroll Gwil in football – he nodded over his shoulder. “After him? Make sure he gets into the shower, please?”

With a quick smack to Ianto's bum, Jack was off after Gwil, ignoring the “Oi! Boots!” that followed him.

By the time he reached the main room of the Hub, Jack could hear Gwen and Tosh cooing and giggling furiously. With a sigh he jogged to catch up with Gwil, who was just heading into his office. Jack swept him up, clutching the starkers boy to his chest and wrapping his greatcoat around him. “Ladies, ladies, please! Wait until my boy is a little older before you start ogling him!”

Tosh giggled and tapped her glasses against her mouth cheekily. “I think you're rubbing off on him already, Jack. I thought you two had decided Ianto was going to be the one to influence him, for the sake of the human race?”

Jack grinned dashingly, still covering the squirming boy with his coat. “For the sake of the human race, I decided to make sure he will one day grow up to be as much of a heart-breaker as his old man.”

Gwen scrunched her nose in delight. “With a bum as adorable as his, he'll have no problems.”

Jack winked, heading back into his office and to his manhole. “Ah, but if I had a bum as adorable as his, I would have never developed my charms!” With the sound of the two female Torchwood employees giggling over Gwil behind him, Jack unwrapped the naked little boy from his coat and plopped him in front of the ladder. “Down you go. And straight into the shower, like your tad said!” 

Waiting a moment for Gwil to climb down, Jack followed after him. By the time Ianto found them a half hour later, carrying a bucket filled with muddy water and looking rather put-out at Jack, the man and boy were sparkling clean, hair dripping from the shower. They were curled up on the couch with Sesame Street on, Gwil asleep in his bathrobe against Jack's chest.

“I'm only letting you out of a scolding over your muddy footprints because Gwil's exhausted,” Ianto whispered, leaning down to give Jack a kiss. 

Jack smiled up at him, tugging at his hand. “Come to bed for a bit?”

With one more kiss, Ianto straightened and nodded. “Let me grab a quick shower. Get him in pajamas and put him down for a nap.” Jack stared after Ianto for a moment, before gently lifting Gwil and carrying him off to bed.   
  
  
  


 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack unfairly convinces Ianto to introduce Gwil to Janet.

 

Ianto stood outside the entrance to the vaults, clutching Gwil's tiny hand in his. His palm was sweating, but he refused to let Gwil's hand go for a moment so that he could wipe it on his trousers. In front of them, Jack bounded into view, a broad grin on his face. “All set!”

Glancing down at Gwil, Ianto took a breath. Why had he ever agreed to this?

**

Jack's tactics to convince Ianto had really been entirely unfair.

“Fuck, Jack, _yes_.” Ianto pressed his palms flat against the headboard as he arched into Jack's eager mouth. Jack's hands rubbed soothingly up and down his flanks as he swallowed him down farther, opening his throat and swallowing around Ianto once his nose was firmly nestled in the thick tuft of pubic hair at the base. “ _Jack...”_

Jack hummed as he pulled back, making Ianto pant and writhe against the sheets. With an absolutely pornographic slurping noise, Jack pulled all the way off, grinning up at Ianto. “Do you want me to keep going?”

Ianto groaned, but shook his head. “If I come from this I'm not going to be able to return the favor.”

With a waggle of his eyebrows and a kiss to Ianto's stomach, Jack slithered up Ianto's body. “Why don't I do all the work tonight?”

Ianto smiled up at Jack, accepting his almost chaste kiss before the other man stretched off to the side, grabbing lube from their nightstand. Ianto lazily stroked his wet erection as he watched Jack slick two fingers up and prepare himself. The lube changed hands, and Ianto slicked some on as Jack closed his eyes and steadily thrust three fingers in and out.

Ianto groaned as Jack sank down onto him in a single, smooth motion, hips pushing up and up, as if he could press any deeper inside. Ianto's hands flew forward, gripping hard at Jack's hips as he urged him to stay fully seated for just a moment longer. With a cheeky grin, Jack clenched around him, drawing another guttural moan from Ianto. 

Ianto eased up the pressure on Jack's hips, and the other man began to rise, riding Ianto with smooth, powerful movements. Ianto pushed up with every thrust down, eyes sliding shut as he focused on the feel of Jack around him, above him.

“We should introduce Gwil to Janet.”

“Uhnn...” Ianto wasn't listening to Jack at the moment. He was a great deal more focused on the way Jack was riding him like a filthy Roman centurion. 

“After all, he already takes care of Myfanwy.” 

Ianto's breathing was becoming more labored as he pushed up into Jack, thighs quivering with the inability to increase the pace or pressure. 

“And he needs to get used to aliens, after all.”

“Jack...close...”

Jack's pace quickened, pushing Ianto ever closer to that precipice of pleasure. His arousal coiled inside of him, tensing every muscle until, with a few more quick, downward thrusts Ianto came, crying out.

Jack continued to ride him even as Ianto's cock softened inside him. Ianto whimpered with the overstimulation, making a mad grab for Jack's own erection. But Jack's hand was already there, pumping himself to completion with a few strokes.

As Ianto drifted off, not even making a move to wipe down his cock or stomach where his and Jack's come abounded, he felt Jack shift next to him. “So is that a yes?”

The next morning, Ianto wouldn't even remember the question – or his answer – but in that moment just between orgasm and sleep, his mouth mumbled “Yes.”

**

“I still don't know if I approve of this, Jack.”

“You agreed,” Jack reminded him, reaching the man and boy. He extended a hand down to Gwil, waggling it until the boy grabbed hold. “Ready to meet Janet?”

Gwil, mouth set in a firm line, nodded. Ianto's heart sank at the sight. 

They started down the hallway, Ianto a resolute pace behind Gwil and Jack. “Listen, Jack, I know I agreed, but I wasn't in my right mind.”

Jack's lewd, crafty smirk thrown over his shoulder told Ianto that Jack knew  _exactly_ what state of mind Ianto had been in when he asked. 

“He's only seven. Can't this wait...”

“Say hello to Janet!”

Going perfectly still, Ianto watched as Gwil's eyes slowly traced upward. Janet was in her cell, munching on something Jack had given her earlier. Noticing the humans, she stood up and loped forward, stopping just a few centimeters before the reinforced plastic. Having just fed, she was somewhat placated, but the look in her eyes was still one that sent chills down Ianto's spine, no matter how long he worked with her. 

Gwil was tucked behind Jack's leg, peering up at the ominous creature before him. He was completely still and silent for two long minutes: eyes the only part of his body moving as they darted around the creature's body, absorbing every detail.

Finally he tugged at Jack's trousers, not moving a centimeter from their protection. “It's an alien?”

“Yup. From _outer space_.”

Gwil glanced back at Ianto, who nodded solemnly. Gwil had picked up on the new concepts of space and rockets through a sort of osmosis, mixing sources like what he saw around the Hub and on the telly. From what Ianto could judge, he had the same understanding of such matters as any modern seven-year-old.

“Does it eat little boys?”

Ianto winced. He really needed to monitor Owen's coffee-conversations with Gwil. He was obviously planting all sorts of notions in his head.

Ianto glanced at Jack who was slowly nodding. “She eats big boys, too. In fact, one of these almost ate me, once. Your tad saved me.”

“You did?” Ianto couldn't help but feel warmth inside as Gwil stared up at him with obvious hero-worship, even as his hands still clutched at Jack's trousers and body remained firmly ensconced behind them. 

Ianto settled for nodding and smiling tightly down at Gwil. “Yup. But they are quite dangerous: don't even come down here without your dad or me.”

Gwil nodded absently, eyes once again returning to focus on Janet. “What kind of alien is it?”

“It's called a weevil.” Jack was slowly inching Gwil away from his legs, trying to push him out into the open. Ianto watched as Gwil became too fascinated by the creature to notice, and soon only three fingers were left holding onto Jack's trousers. “Jaaanet.” Jack waved his hands and moved around, causing Janet to snarl and beat one meaty fist at the plastic. She wasn't being aggressive, as her stomach was currently full. Still, Gwil jumped back, clutching at Jack's leg and pulling himself back behind it. 

“What does it do?”

Ianto and Jack both blinked and stared at each other for a moment at the question. Jack answered first. “She...uh...she eats. And so we give her food.”

“We study her.” Ianto slid into his lecture-voice, staring down seriously at Gwil. “We keep her safe and comfortable, and then we learn things from her, like how to protect people from other weevils, and how to make them stop hurting people without hurting them.”

Gwil seemed to accept this explanation, watching Janet studiously. “Do I have to feed it, too?”

Ianto shook his head immediately. “It's too dangerous,” he said.

Not even a second later Jack chimed in with: “Maybe when you're older.”

For that addendum, Jack received a completely deserved  _glare_ from Ianto, which also contained a promise to discuss that issue later. With a firm nudge, Ianto pushed Jack away from Gwil, taking the boy's hand in his again. “Come on: let's go feed Myfanwy. She missed you yesterday when you were studying with Auntie Tosh.”

As they walked away from Janet, Ianto only relaxed once he heard Jack seal the door behind them. His footsteps were loud as he jogged to catch up, slipping a warm, dry hand into Ianto's. A quick kiss to the temple was enough to cause the last bit of tension to ebb from Ianto's body, and he let out an almost-silent sigh as he glanced down to check on Gwil. The little one didn't seem to be permanently scared by his visit with Janet; on the contrary, he was already preoccupied with thoughts of Myfanwy: discussing quietly how they would have to change her nest Saturday, because it had been almost a month since the last time. 

Jack's warm breath tickled Ianto's ear as he leaned in. “See? Our boy can handle anything.”

Ianto smiled thinly.  _The problem is_ , he thought,  _w_ _hen you're Torchwood, "anything" encompasses much too much._   
  
  


 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto gets injured, Jack freaks out.

Jack watched Ianto fall, unable to do a thing about it. He ripped his arm away from the alien currently gnawing on it, ignoring how the sinews and muscles ripped away from bone. With a roar he swung his Webley around and shot the alien in the head, not even waiting to see if the wound felled the creature.

A moment later he was at Ianto's side, hands shaking desperately above the pool of blood slowly forming beneath him. Ianto had gotten off a shot; he must have: the alien that had tore a chunk out of his shoulder, trapezium, and neck was lying still next to him. Jack's Webley lay uselessly on the ground – his hands were pressed to Ianto's throat, trying to stop the bleeding.

“Ianto, Ianto, Ianto...” Jack's voice was broken and scared. He barely even recognized it himself as the anguished syllables tore themselves from his lips. Frantically he pulled off his coat, laying it over Ianto before pressing the limp sleeves to the wound. The thick wool absorbed the blood quickly, the red stain spreading through the fabric like spilt ink. It was too much blood – Jack knew that. Still, he pressed down harder, sobbing as Ianto's eyelids fluttered and a pained moan escaped.

“Ianto! Ianto, please, hang on. Please...”

Jack didn't even register Owen running up to them until the doctor was tearing Jack's hands and coat away and replacing them with a wad of cotton and bandages. “Get him off the ground, Jack! Fuck! Throw him into the boot, come on!”

Without a second's thought to the alien corpses littering the warehouse, Jack hefted Ianto into his arms and rushed him to the SUV, crawling into the boot with Ianto still in his arms. He cradled the wounded man in his lap as Owen scrambled up in with them. Owen had barely slammed the door when the SUV took off, Gwen in the driver's seat. “It's a lot of blood,” Jack moaned.

“Thanks, doctor Harkness, I didn't fucking notice!”

Owen was scrambling, securing the wad of bandages to Ianto's throat and injecting him with several different concoctions. Jack blinked, looking around in a state of shock. He knew the ride back to the Hub would take at least ten minutes. He looked down at the increasingly white face of the man in his lap. Ianto wouldn't make it.

“Transfusion. Owen, Owen, you have to...” Jack held out his arm. “Give him my blood. Please.”

Owen's face was grim as he fumbled through the medkit in the boot. “Believe me, Jack, I would if I could.” He grinned without humor. “Ianto's O positive. You're A, Gwen and I are B.” Owen grabbed Ianto's wrist as he felt for a pulse. “If it was any one of us, Ianto could help. But since it's him...”

Jack swallowed thickly. “We can't give to him.” He blinked, tears falling freely onto his coat, still wrapped around Ianto. “But, maybe...maybe my blood's okay. Fifty-first century, the...the vortex energy...”

Again, a shaky non-smile. “I've checked before. It's a no go, Jack. Just...” he lifted one of Jack's hands and placed it over Ianto's wound. “Just keep pressure on it. We have to get back to the Hub. Once we're there, I've got plenty of blood to give him.”

Jack's whole body was shaking violently as he kept pressure on the wound. He watched, almost disconnectedly, as Owen injected Ianto with something else, lifting his wrist and checking his pulse a moment later. He pulled a manual respirator out of the kit, fitting the mask over Ianto's face and pumping it, counting under his breath. His entire demeanor was grim, and he turned to shout over the seat-backs: “Gwen! Get a move on!”

“You don't think I am?!” Gwen's voice had a tinge of hysteria to it, and Jack found himself actually grateful. If Gwen was scared, then she'd drive faster.

He looked up at Owen through tear-filled eyes. “What are his chances?”

Owen shook his head, eyes fixed firmly on Ianto as he continued to pump air into his lungs. “No way to-”

“Owen! Numbers!”

“It's fifty-fifty!” Owen's wide eyes met Jack's, and for the first time Jack noticed a wet sheen to them. “I've got as much procoagulants as I can put into him without stopping his heart, and that's slowing the bleeding. But not enough, and too late: he needs more blood. If his heart hasn't stopped by the time we get him into the med bay, I can probably work some magic.” Owen turned away from Jack, breaking eye contact as he wiped his face on his sleeve. As he turned back, Jack's heart seized at the look on his face. “His pulse is weak, Jack.”

Jack bent his head, staring down at Ianto's face. His skin was white – if it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest, Jack would have thought him dead. As it was, his breathing was shaky, and growing shallower by the minute. “Please, Ianto. Please: don't leave me.”

**

Jack carried Ianto into the Hub, kicking the Chula corpse off the autopsy table and setting Ianto down onto the now-cleared space in one, smooth motion. Tosh ran over from her station, hovering in the observation level with Gwen as Owen dashed in and started pulling apart cabinets. Within a minute he had Ianto hooked up to an IV, blood pumping into his system. Next was an oxygen mask Owen slipped over Ianto's nose and mouth, to replace the manual respirator Owen had continued to work through the entire, frantic drive back.

At first, Jack sighed, thinking the worst was over. But then Ianto's wound started bleeding afresh, soaking through the gauze and tape and spilling over onto the table. “Owen? Owen, what the hell is-”

“It's the anticoagulant! You have to put it in the blood to store it.” Owen ripped the cap off a needle and jabbed it into Ianto's IV line. With a grumble he spun around, eyes drifting around the bay until they stopped, apparently alighting on something. He returned a moment later with something the size of a pen.

“What's that? Owen, do you know how to work it?”

“It's just a laser scalpel. I'm going to stitch up Ianto with it: stop some of the bleeding.”

Jack ran shaking fingers around the outside of the wound. The skin wasn't even really there: chunks of it were torn away, other pieces were just hanging there, shredded and bloody. There were parts where the muscle had been torn away so much that bright spots of bone shone through, noticeable even with pools of blood filling in the gaping holes. “But...Owen, he needs muscles. Skin grafts. What if there's a disease on that animal? You need to test...”

“Just let me do my fucking job!” Owen shoved Jack, eyes blazing, against the railing. “You need to get the fuck away from Ianto right now, or he's going to die. _Die_ , Jack.”

In the sudden stillness, a small sob filled the air. Jack's eyes flickered over to the corner of the medical bay. Gwil was sitting on the bottom step, arms wrapped around his knees and body curled into a tight ball. He was sniffling: bright, blue eyes blood-shot; cheeks tear-stained; nose running as he cried. 

With one last shove Owen pushed off Jack, going back over to Ianto. “Take care of your son, Jack; I'll take care of my patient.” 

When Jack walked over to Gwil and made to crouch down next to him, Owen shook his head without looking up from Ianto. “No kids in here, Jack. Take him out.”

So Jack scooped Gwil up, pressing his face to his shoulder. Gwil started to cry in earnest, then: arms wrapped tight enough to hurt around Jack's neck and wet face soaking through his shirt. Jack shushed him, rubbing his back as he walked over to his office. “Shh, champ. It's alright. Shh.”

Gwil just sobbed louder, apparently taking Jack's attention as permission to cry. Jack had to work hard not to join him in volume, at the very least. He couldn't help the tears that ran freely down his face and sobs that shook his body, but he managed to do it quietly. “It'll...” Jack gasped silently before continuing. “It'll be okay, Gwil. Shh. Everything'll be fine.”

Gwil's head shook back and forth against Jack's shoulder. Voice muffled, he cried out “Tad's going to die!”

A current of panic shot through Jack's system, causing him to shudder violently. All he could think to do was hold Gwil tighter, hand continuing to rub over the back of Gwil's head. “No. No, he's going to be fine. Uncle Owen is going to make him better.”

But Gwil shook his head and started to cry harder. “He's going to die! The blood, and...and...he looked like Kai!”

Jack continued to hold Gwil. Kai must have been someone he knew at the mill. Every once in a while Gwil would mention someone or something that had happened – most often, someone who had died or some traumatizing event. Jack had a sinking feeling that Kai had died from exsanguination. 

“Maybe. But Uncle Owen is very...very good. He'll...” Jack took a shaking breath. “He'll fix Tad.”

A gasp and pained cry came from the med bay. Jack stiffened, clutching Gwil tighter. Every instinct in his body was telling him to run over there, to hold Ianto's hand, to kick and scream and cry, or maybe punch Owen. But he couldn't bear letting Gwil see his tad like that again. So he stayed seated.

A moment later Tosh rushed in, wiping tears from her face. “He's okay,” she gasped out. “Owen's slowed the bleeding. He's awake.” She held her arms out, scooping Gwil up from Jack. “Owen's going to put him under for the repairs. You'd have to talk to him now.”

Jack placed a kiss to Gwil's forehead as he got up to leave. “See? Tad's okay. I'm just going to check on him.” With a nod to Tosh, Jack hurried out of his office. 

Ianto was moaning on the table, head turned away from his shredded shoulder and eyes squeezed shut. Owen was working meticulously at the wound, flushing it with a saline solution and taking swabs. Without looking up, Owen spoke: “I'm giving him heavy sedatives. We've got to regrow muscles, and even with the regenerator I've got it hurts like a bastard.”

Reaching Ianto's undamaged side, Jack grabbed for his hand. Ianto squeezed back, hard. His skin was still too pale, but it wasn't quite the deathly pallor it was a few minutes before. “Okay?”

Ianto grit out: “No. It hurts. A lot.”

Jack half-laughed, half-sobbed. “Never would have guessed.”

“Where's Gwil?”

Jack squeezed Ianto's hand reassuringly, clutching it to his chest. “He's fine. He's scared,” he amended. “But if you're okay, we're okay.”

A scream ripped its way from Ianto's throat as Owen did something to his shoulder. Ianto made a futile attempt to roll away, collapsing back onto the table when Owen pulled him back. “Alright, time for Ianto to go to beddie-bye so the doctor can do his  _job_ .”

Jack waited as Owen injected the sedative into Ianto's IV. Ianto's grip slackened and expression relaxed, until he was asleep a few seconds later. Jack stayed as Owen continued to work: smoothing back Ianto's hair from his face and rubbing his hand. He watched as Owen carefully reconnected tissue and tendons, using the regenerator to fill in missing parts. Muscles regrew before his eyes, slowly and tediously meshing with the still intact muscles.

Two hours later, Owen threw down the regenerator and laser scalpel. He snapped the blood-soaked gloves off, tossing them into the biohazard bin. Jack tried not to look at the pieces of skin and shredded tissue that the gloves landed on top of. A hand fell heavily on Jack's shoulder, and he glanced up to see Owen nodding tiredly down at him. “I pumped him full of enough sedative to keep him knocked out for the night. He'll be off field duty for...” Owen shrugged. “Hell, I don't even know, Jack. He might have permanent mobility issues with his whole left side.”

Jack nodded, eyes trained on the layers and layers of gauze covering Ianto's neck, collar, and shoulder. “How long until he wakes up?”

Owen glanced at his wrist and, noticing no watch there, lifted Ianto's arm to have a look at his. “It's eleven now, so he should be coming out of it around six am or so.” He hesitated, looking at Jack. “I thought I'd go home, catch some sleep. I'll come back around five, five-thirty?”

Jack nodded absently. “Sure, Owen: go home.” As Owen walked past, Jack reached out and grabbed his wrist with his free hand. “Thanks, Owen.”

“Yeah, well. Just doing my job, boss.”

As the cog door slid shut, Jack bent down and pressed a kiss to Ianto's forehead. His joints creaked as he stepped away. He hadn't taken time to consider his own wounds from that night, and even though they were healed, his newly-grown muscles were protesting his two-hour vigil. He climbed the stairs and looked around. Tosh was on the couch with Gwil: tapping away on her laptop one-handed, while Gwil slept fitfully on her lap, trapping her other hand between himself and the couch. Jack nodded at her. “Thanks, Tosh. You can go home, now.”

Tosh smiled up at him tiredly, slipping her glasses off and closing up her laptop. “No trouble at all, Jack.” She edged Gwil off her carefully, and Jack slid onto the couch, taking the little boy into his arms. “He's still upset.”

Jack nodded as Gwil stirred. Quickly he leaned across and kissed Tosh on the cheek, before turning his full attention to Gwil. The cog door sounded a second time as she left. “Dad?”

Jack smiled down at Gwil. “Hey, sleepy.”

“Where's Tad?”

Jack smoothed down Gwil's hair, which was sticking up on one side from falling asleep on Tosh. “He's resting now, but you can see him if you want.”

Gwil nodded assuredly. Just as Jack was about to stand, he hesitated. Ianto's dressings were clean and blessedly blood-free, but Jack's coat still covered his lower half and was soaked in blood. It probably wouldn't be the most reassuring sight for Gwil.

Just as he was going to tell Gwil to stay in place while he took care of tidying up Ianto, the sound of heels on metal grates reached him. Gwen came out of his office, looking around at the empty Hub. “Owen done, then?”

Jack nodded. Gwen came over and sat on the couch on the opposite side of Gwil, tucking her arm around the boy and looking concernedly at Jack. “Everything alright?”

“Everything's fine. You took care of the cleanup?”

Gwen nodded. “Just got back from the incinerator with the last of them. No witnesses that I could tell, but Tosh already set the computer up to notify us if any reports came through.”

Absently Jack stroked Gwil's hair as he listened. Standing, he tucked Gwil over to Gwen. “Hey, watch him for a minute? He wants to see Ianto, but I need to...” Jack gestured vaguely.

Gwen nodded, pulling Gwil under her arm. “Hey, Gwil. Did you like going to a movie with Uncle Rhys and me last weekend?” As Gwil nodded sleepily, Jack backed away and into his office. “We could go to another one this weekend. Maybe even get some ice cream.”

Jack hurried down the ladder into their rooms. He gathered up a pillow and blankets from the linen closet, as well as a pair of pajama bottoms from their dresser. There was no way he was going to be able to maneuver a shirt onto him in his state, so Jack left the matching top and hurried back up, into the Hub. With a finger held up to Gwen he made his way down the stairs of the med bay. 

Jack paused for a moment, looking at Ianto. Color had slowly returned to his cheeks as he had rested and Owen worked. Now he was looking more his old self: ragged and worse for wear, but himself. Gingerly Jack removed his coat, grimacing as Ianto's dried blood cracked and distorted its normal lines. He removed Ianto's trousers and pants, tossing them into the corner. The suit was a total loss after today.

Gingerly Jack slipped the pajama bottoms on. Just as carefully he slid a blanket under Ianto – an autopsy table wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to spend the night, but Owen had insisted no one move Ianto until the morning, when they could better assess his stability. Jack then slipped the pillow under his head and spread the quilt he had grabbed over him. Gently he covered what he could of the bandages: he would uncover it later so as not to damage the area, but for now he didn't want Gwil to see how extensive the damage was. He had already seen too much, that day.

Running his hands down the quilt, Jack took one final moment to himself. If it weren't for the oxygen mask still firmly in place over Ianto's nose and mouth, now it would almost look as though Ianto really was sleeping, rather than unconscious due to heavy sedation. Bending down, Jack placed a lingering kiss to Ianto's forehead. The skin was blessedly warm beneath his lips. With tears in his eyes he stood, fingers brushing over Ianto's hair. “Gwen?”

Gwen appeared, tugging Gwil along with her. He was looking more alert now, but also more worried. “Come here,” Jack stretched his arms out, scooping up Gwil and settling him on his hip. He started leaning, craning his neck to peer down at Ianto. 

“Tad?”

“Shh. Tad's sleeping. He has to rest up to feel better.”

Fearful eyes turned to meet Jack's. “Will he wake up?”

Leaning forward, Jack nuzzled his head against Gwil's. “Of course he will. Tomorrow morning Uncle Owen is going to come in and wake him up.” Jack gave Gwil a minute to touch Ianto's chest and stare down at his sleeping face, before he squeezed the boy. “Come on: you need to sleep.”

Gwil's eyes slid down to the ground, an almost-pout forming on his lips. He was much too well-behaved – another remnant of his mill days, though Ianto's influence was certainly helping the manners linger – to voice a protest, though Jack could tell he wanted to. “Here: give Tad a kiss.”

Jack held Gwil as he carefully levered himself down to kiss Ianto on the cheek. Then he carried him to their rooms, letting him go down the ladder first. Jack tucked him in perfunctorily, mind too focused on Ianto alone in the med bay to focus on the task at hand. With an absent-minded kiss on the forehead, Jack made to leave Gwil's room.

“Dad?”

Almost out of the room, Jack stopped. He allowed himself one longing gaze at the ladder, then turned back to Gwil. “Yeah?”

Gwil's big blue eyes stared up at him from beneath a pile of blankets. “I'm scared. Can you stay with me?”

Jack winced, but made his way back to the chair next to Gwil's bed. “Sure, champ. Why don't I read you your book?” 

Jack made to pick up T _he_ _Magician's Nephew_ , but Gwil's sudden cry stopped him. “No! Tad's reading that!”

With a sigh, Jack's eyes skimmed around the room. “Hang on: I'll be right back.” Jack hurried out and grabbed the first book on the coffee table:  _Xenobiology for the Intrepid Traveler_ . Owen had given it to Ianto for Christmas last year.

Settling in next to Gwil's bed, Jack opened to a random page and started to read: “'Name: Foamasi. Type: Reptilian biped. Planet of Origin: Unknown. Affiliated With: the Argolin. The  Foamasi are an intelligent, bipedal race of reptiles resembling humanoid chameleons...'”

Twenty minutes later, Gwil was asleep, and Jack snuck out to return to Ianto's side. 

**

The cog door sounded at five o'clock that morning. Jack hadn't slept yet, opting to sit with his back to the railing as he watched Ianto's chest rise and fall throughout the night. Ianto had barely moved: not even those little twitches or groans he was liable to make throughout a normal night's sleep. But with the cog door alarm, Ianto shifted, frown creasing his features and a small groan escaping his lips.

“Ianto?”

Ianto's blue eyes sliding open was more beautiful to Jack than the crystalline star supernova he had seen back in his twenties. Tears pricked at his eyes as he grinned down at the other man, who was growing more awake by the second. “J-Ja-ow...” Ianto's words descended into a small groan, eyes falling shut again in pain.

Jack quickly stifled his smile – though with the amount of relief he was feeling, it was hard – and glanced over his shoulder. Owen was walking down the steps, eyes bloodshot and hair completely unstyled. “How's the patient?”

“Just waking up.” 

Ianto groaned, slitting open a single eye. “Feeling like I went ten rounds with a weevil. Owen?”

Owen was already there, pulling out a needle from the fridge and injecting it into Ianto's IV. “Painkillers on their way. Thirty seconds and you're going to feel fantastic.” Ianto's expression eased immediately and he nodded. Owen was on his stool, sliding across the bay and grabbing a clipboard. “Before the meds go making you feel like Wolverine, rate your pain levels for me.”

“Twenty,” Ianto grumbled.

“What's it feel like?” When Ianto just shot Owen a _look_ , Owen held one hand up and continued. “'Scuse me. Does it feel bruised, torn, or itchy? Is there an area where the pain is worse?”

“Yeah, my left shoulder area.”

Owen rolled his eyes and glared at Jack. “Get control over your spouse, would you?”

Jack just shrugged. “Not my husband, sorry Owen.” He nodded at the dressings that Owen was lifting gingerly. “How is he?” he half-whispered.

Owen snorted and continued to examine the area. Jack noticed that beneath the pink, new flesh and hundreds of stitches, the entire area was a mass of deep purple bruising. “Because you don't sound like a concerned husband,” Owen smirked up at Jack as he replaced the bandages.

To Ianto he said, “Come on, pain descriptions, before the painkillers set in and you forget.”

Ianto sighed but spoke up. “Bruised. Massively bruised, that's how my whole left side feels. And tight.”

Owen nodded. “That'd be the scar tissue and stitches. Any sharp or wet pains?”

Ianto shook his head, then stopped, grimacing. “No. Just hurts. A lot.”

With a smirk, Owen smacked his clipboard against his hand. "Good news! You'll be up and ready to get mauled again in a month!” Owen made some more notes on his clipboard before sliding across the bay and tossing it onto a table. “I'm going to scan you later today, after I give the regenerated muscles and tendons and what-not more time to integrate into the old stuff you've got, but from what I can tell, recovery looks good.”

Ianto groaned and appeared to attempt to roll his eyes. “Thanks, Owen, but in the meantime can I get another dose of painkillers?” 

Owen frowned and grabbed Ianto's wrist, feeling his pulse for thirty seconds. Finally he dropped it and nodded. “Quarter of a dose more, but that's all you're getting for another six hours.”

As the painkillers hit his system, Ianto relaxed more, eyes fluttering shut. He hummed happily. “That's good...”

Owen nodded at Jack. “Alright, he's good to move. I'd suggest loo, maybe a scrub down, then bed.” He squinted at Ianto's IV, apparently considering something. “He can eat, but try and keep it liquid: soups and the like. And you might want to keep a bucket nearby.” He shrugged at Jack's alarm. “Nausea's to be expected with that amount of damage and meds.”

Jack nodded, moving to scoop Ianto up. Once Ianto was securely in his arms (and nuzzling quite unselfconsciously into his chest) he hesitated, glancing at Owen. “Could you...”

Blinking once, Owen laughed in sudden understanding. “You guys really need to get some stairs.”

Ianto made a funny little giggling noise from where he was snuggled into Jack's chest. “I told him 'bout stairs.” He blinked, raising his eyes slowly up to Jack's face. “'s Gwil?”

Bending down, Jack pressed a light kiss to Ianto's forehead as he followed Owen over to the ladder in his office. “He was shaken up, but now he's sleeping in his room.” Jack caught Owen's accusing glare and he scowled back. “I could have handled the situation better.”

With a satisfied smirk Owen descended down the ladder. At his shout, Jack carefully lowered Ianto down to him, trying his best not to pull at his damaged side. The task proved almost impossible, but Ianto was drugged up enough that he didn't complain. Once Owen and Jack managed to maneuver Ianto to bed, Owen checked over the bandages and stitches again, tutting at a few torn stitches. “Let me grab some stuff.”

As they waited for Owen to return, Jack crawled into bed with Ianto, clinging to his undamaged side. “Don't ever do that again,” he whispered.

Ianto's smile was a bit drugged and unfocused, but his words were clear enough for Jack to understand: “Can't promise it, sir.”

Once Owen had given Ianto a tune-up and helped Jack get him to the bathroom and back, he left for good. He told Jack he had cultures growing from the swabs he took of Ianto's wounds, so they would know if there was anything else they would need to do in a few hours. At Ianto's weak request for a glass of water, Jack returned from the kitchen with a pitcher, two glasses, and a bendy straw. Ianto drank a full glass, then pushed away Jack's attempt at a refill and closed his eyes.

Jack was watching him, sure he had fallen back to sleep, when Ianto spoke up again. “Jack?”

Immediately Jack squeezed Ianto's good hand in reassurance. “I'm here.”

“'m sorry I scared you. And Gwil.”

Jack's eyes watered, so he pushed back Ianto's hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It's alright. We're fine. I'll bring Gwil in later when you wake up.”

“'love him.” Jack could tell Ianto was actually falling asleep now, as his breathing evened out and words drawled heavily.

After a silent sob Jack lay his head down gently on Ianto's side, listening for his heartbeat. His voice was a hoarse whisper. “I love him, too.”  
  
  


 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwil gets a little intimate with someone at footie practice.

Jack was drumming his fingers on the arm of his little fold-out chair. It wasn't that he didn't want to be there: he definitely did. His impatience had more to do with the midday blow job that had been cut short by a Rift alert, which him and Ianto had then not had the opportunity to continue because they had to hurry off to Gwil's football practice.

Being a parent took a _lot_ of sacrifice.

Ianto was seemingly unperturbed by the direction their day had taken, and was talking a amicably to the other parents. In the month or so they had been taking Gwil to practice, the other parents had grown to like Ianto. With Jack, they were more grudgingly accepting, out of what seemed to be deference to Ianto. Llewella in particular had warmed up to the two of them, asking increasingly intimate questions as she tried to get a handle on - she was convinced - her gay son. "So, since you two are both fine, strong men, how do you decide who's on top? Do you just let Jack, since he's older? Is that the rule?"

Jack grinned as he watched Ianto splutter. Ever the hero, Jack stood up and went over to Ianto, rubbing a reassuring hand over his shoulder. "You really need to get over your obsession with labels. Narrows your horizons."

Llewella was apparently unaffected by Jack's seductive eyebrow waggle, sucking on her cigarette and raising a skeptical eyebrow of her own. "So, what, Ianto tops, then? Or do you two switch night to night?"

As Jack opened his mouth, leer firmly plastered across his face, Ianto cut in. "It's really just a matter of personal preference, in the same way heterosexual couples might have a preferred position."

Llewella still looked incredulous, but let the issue drop as coach called the end of practice. Jack turned to the field with the other parents, looking for Gwil. Frowning, Jack felt a small flare of nerves when he couldn't spot him right away. Next to him, Ianto was obviously feeling more than a small flare of nerves, gripping Jack's arm hard enough to bruise. "Jack. Jack, I don't...Jack..."

Jack lay his hand over Ianto's. "It's okay. I'm sure he's just playing around with another kid..."

"Oh, bollocksing hell. Owen? Owen! Where did that boy..."

Jack glanced over at Llewella, who was stalking across the football pitch. Ianto was frowning next to him, but Jack was slowly growing suspicious of the dual absence. A slow grin spread across his face, and he tugged on Ianto's arm. "Come on," he said, "I have a theory where Gwil is." Jack started after Llewella across the field without waiting for Ianto, who was heading toward the drink stand at the far end of the pitch.

Just as Jack and Ianto had caught up with Llewella, the three adults rounded the corner of the drink stand. On the other side, tucked into a little alcove, were Gwil and Owen. Kissing.

Jack's reaction was instantaneous: he whipped out his cellphone and snapped a picture. _This_ was going on the fridge – the one in the main area of the Hub, not the one in their private kitchen. The artificial clicking sound effect from his camera seemed to awaken the other two parents from their trance, spurring their reactions.

"Owen!"

Owen and Gwil jumped apart from each other. Owen stared at the ground guiltily, whereas Gwil just looked between his fathers and then Llewella, obviously confused by the mixed reactions. Jack tensed as he waited for Llewella's next reaction, ready to defend the other boy. Although Ianto was looking a little shellshocked, he squared his shoulders, apparently gearing up for the same argument.

To Jack's surprise, Llewella just put a hand to her forehead, shaking her head slightly. "It's fine, Owen. I..." she glanced hesitantly at Jack and Ianto before continuing. "I already knew. And I still love you." She hesitated again, before squatting down and pulling little Owen into a hug, who looked on the verge of tears. Patting his back awkwardly, Llewella continued: "Just...let _me_ tell your tad, yeah?" She smiled tightly up at Ianto and Jack. "He'll be fine, I'd just rather break the news to him in my own way." With a sigh Llewella straightened, ruffling the top of Owen's head. "Come on: we'll stop by a clothes store on the way home and you can pick out one thing: whatever you want."

Owen's face brightened at this, and the tears that had been threatening vanished in an instant.

As the mother and son started away, Gwil turned to his fathers and cocked his head. "Did we do something bad?"

Jack ruffled Gwil's hair and shook his head. "Nope."

Ianto was more cautious. He peered down at Gwil. “Why do you think that?”

Gwil shrugged one shoulder shyly, glancing past the two men toward Llewella and Owen's retreating forms. His gaze returned to Ianto's, and he ventured: “I thought Mrs. Talog was mad.”

Jack scooped Gwil up, setting him on his shoulders. He gave his son's skinny chicken legs a reassuring squeeze. “She's just in shock. She'll get over it.”

Ianto's shoulder bumped into his, and Jack glanced over at the other man. He was looking a little nervous, glancing up at Gwil and worrying his lower lip. “Kisses are...special,” he started. “You should only kiss someone you...really care about.”

Jack's smirk went resolutely unnoticed. Jack leaned closer, pressing their shoulders together. “You know, I think Gwil's gotten more action than me today.” Ianto managed to appear unperturbed, though Jack didn't miss the lusty look that flashed across Ianto's face before he managed to school his features into something more kids'-football-pitch appropriate. In place of trying to rile up Ianto, he turned his attention back to Gwil. “So how'd you end up kissing little Owen?” He stared up, rolling his eyes to the top of their sockets as if he could see Gwil that way. “Did he kiss you first?”

Atop his shoulders, Jack could feel Gwil shift. “Yeah. But I wanted to see why you and tad do it all the time. I thought it'd feel good.”

Jack shared a surprised look with Ianto. “It didn't?”

Even though he couldn't see it, Jack could feel Gwil's little shrug. “Dunno. Just...nothing. It felt like touching. But with lips.” He bent down, bringing his face level with Jack's. “Why do you and tad do it so much?”

With a smirk Jack kissed Gwil on the cheek, making him giggle and scrunch up his face before pulling away dramatically. “Because your tad and I...really care about...each other. And kisses feel good when you really care about someone.”

They had reached the car, and with a dramatic heave Jack lifted Gwil from his shoulders, swinging him back and forth before setting him carefully on the ground. After regaining his balance, Gwil smiled up at his parents, looking between them with a curious little glint in his eyes. “D'you think it'd feel better if I tried it with a girl?”

Jack's reply was cut off by Ianto opening the SUV door and helping Gwil hop in. “Don't go trying it with just anyone,” he cautioned. “If you really like someone, boy or girl, it'll feel nice then.” He hesitated, glancing back at Jack. “Though some people don't like boys kissing boys so...no doing it unless the other boy wants to, yeah?”

Gwil shrugged one shoulder as Ianto leaned into the car, buckling the seatbelt snugly around him. “Back at the mill, Cefin got hurted because they caught him with 'nother boy.”

Stiffening, Jack lay a hand on Ianto's shoulder, willing him not to overreact. With a strangled little noise, Ianto pressed a kiss to Gwil's forehead and pulled away. His hand closed compulsively over Jack's, and he squeezed it tightly. “We won't ever let something like that happen to you, cariad. If anyone _ever_ hurts you, you tell us.” 

Gwil didn't seem to understand what was so imperative, but he nodded anyway. Ianto shut the door and started over to the passenger side. Jack stopped him, gripping his hand and pulling him in close. Ianto looked so hurt and scared. Offering the only comfort he knew how, Jack pushed Ianto up against the SUV and kissed him: deeply, tenderly. When they parted, Jack pressed his forehead against Ianto's, staring into his eyes. “I will always protect him.” Jack could feel Ianto's shoulder shift minutely as he pressed against him, still sore and healing from his injury.  _And you_ .

Ianto's eyes softened, but the fear was still there. “He's so little. And there's people out there...”

Jack stopped him with another kiss, lopsided grin crossing his face as he pulled away. “Yeah. But we're Torchwood.”  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
> 
> 
> [Fanart](http://jedimonkeyspock.deviantart.com/art/Gwil-s-Guide-Footie-Practice-196584646)
> 
>  
> 
> !! I totally got fanart for this chapter, courtesy [](http://jedimonkeyspock.livejournal.com/profile)[**jedimonkeyspock**](http://jedimonkeyspock.livejournal.com/) !! Go check it out! ^.^
> 
>  


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ianto runs into Rhiannon at the park; Ianto makes Jack face some unpleasant truths about how to make their lives work.

Ianto rushed out of his car, glancing at his watch for the umpteenth time. He was supposed to meet Tosh here an hour ago to pick up Gwil from one of their tutoring sessions. Of course, as he and Jack had been en route a Rift alert had come through. Thus had begun the two hour detour where they had to deal with a ship-full of Transporian traders. Luckily they had only been displaced spatially, and not temporally, so it was just a matter of Jack giving them directions back to one of the main trade routes.

Or it would have been that simple if they hadn't wanted to make the best of the situation and gather up some things to sell off-world.

After two hours of listening to Jack speak some headache-inducing language in an attempt to just get the Transporians off-planet, Ianto had looked significantly at his watch and left. Jack could deal with the traders on his own, and if things got problematic, there was always Gwen and Owen back at the Hub.

“I'm sorry! I know: I'm late.” Ianto ignored the headache pounding at his temples and exhaustion seeping out of every muscle as he jogged over to Tosh and Gwil, who seemed to be playing some sort of numbers game. Gwil was sitting on the picnic table, staring intently at the numbered cards in front of him. Tosh seemed to be maneuvering the cards, setting up little equations or puzzles, and Gwil would reach out and rearrange the cards into his answer.

Tosh looked up, pushing her hair back from her face. She smiled as Ianto drew nearer, patting Gwil on the leg and pointing him in his direction.

“Tad!” With a squeal Gwil clambered off the table, launching himself at Ianto until he was wrapped firmly around his leg. Ianto brought a hand down to his shoulder, squeezing it in greeting.

“Did you have fun with Auntie Tosh today?”

Gwil nodded, gazing up at Ianto with adoring eyes as they awkwardly walk-hugged their way back to the picnic table, where Tosh was packing up her supplies. “How's he doing?”

Smiling as she fitted the cover over her box of cards, Tosh glanced up at Ianto. “Brilliantly. If we worked a little bit harder, he might be ready to start school come autumn.”

Ianto's grip tightened on Gwil's shoulder, and he shook his head. “Not...” he took a breath and forced a smile. “I think it's best he wait another year. Introduce him a bit more to normal life.” When Tosh looked like she didn't believe him, Ianto continued on quickly: “Well, can't exactly have him telling his classmates about his pet pteranodon, or the giant fountain that runs through the center of his underground home.”

Finished cramming everything into her over-sized purse, Tosh swung it over her shoulder with a smile. “I suppose...” she relented. Still, as she started away she patted Ianto's arm. “But he _will_ have to go the next year.”

Swallowing thickly, Ianto nodded. “I know,” he whispered. 

With that, Tosh was off, leaving Ianto and Gwil alone in the park. “Where's Dad?”

Ianto glanced down at Gwil, who was still attached to his leg. He was peering around it toward the car park. When he spotted Ianto's car, rather than the SUV, he frowned. “Oh. He's working, isn't he?”

Forcing a smile, Ianto patted Gwil on the shoulder. “He's almost done. He said he'd meet us here, then we could get dinner.”

Gwil's face lit up at that, and he took a step away from the protective shadow of Ianto's leg. “Chips?”

Narrowing his eyes in mock-consideration, Ianto finally drawled out. “Maybe. If you're good.” Ianto looked around the park, noticing the other children shouting and playing on the playground. “Why don't you go play with some of the other kids?” He nodded in the direction of the playground. “I'll wait over here for your dad.”

Gwil nodded and started off toward the monkey bars. Ianto, in turn, did his best to control his impulse to leap up and hover over Gwil's every move. He'd be  _fine_ . After all, it was just monkey bars. Millions of kids all over the world went on them every day. 

Ianto twitched violently as Gwil's hand slipped and he hung on with one arm. Then he was righting himself, swinging hand over hand again across the bars. With a long, shuddering breath, Ianto eased himself back onto the picnic bench. It was  _fine_ . Jack would be here in a few minutes, and then they'd all have chips. Ianto shifted slightly in his seat, feeling the paunch that threatened around his middle. Well, maybe he'd have a salad. It was the least he could do, considering he'd been too busy to cook these last few months, much less get a proper workout in. 

“David! David, don't you dare! David, if you don't get down from there _this instant_ , I swear...” 

Ianto's head whipped around so fast he was sure he pulled something. Sure enough, there was his sister, running across the playground and over to David, who was dangling from the roof of one of the playground towers. He laughed and shot her two fingers, returning to climbing around where he most decidedly was not supposed to.

Rhiannon gasped at the gesture, dashing toward her son with renewed fury. “That's it! Just for that, no Xbox for a week! And if you don't get down from there now, I'll make it two.” David just shouted and kept climbing. Rhiannon was now beneath him, hands on her hips in a gesture Ianto recognized as hereditary. “You're going to get it when your tad gets home! I'll tell him what you did, and when he's finished with you, you won't be able to sit down for a week, you hear me?”

From where he was observing the proceedings at his picnic bench, Ianto ducked his head and smirked. With great reluctance and more than a bit of defiance, David crawled down from the tower and back over to his mam. She snatched his arm up, pushing him back toward a bench. Ianto could see her purse and another woman on the bench that he could only assume Rhiannon had been sat at. “Now, you sit over here with me for five minutes before I let you loose again.”

Too late, Ianto saw his sister's gaze drift in his direction. Shock was quickly replaced by a grin, and she hurried over, David still tightly in hand. “Ianto! What are you doing here?”

Grasping about for an answer, he nodded at her. “Might ask the same of you. What brings you into Cardiff?”

She nodded over her shoulder at the woman waiting for her on the park bench. “Friend of mine moved here a few months back. Thought we could catch up while the kids had a play date.” Letting go of David's hand, she pointed at the picnic bench. “Sit!” she commanded. She turned back to Ianto with her arms crossed. “But come on, now: you didn't answer my question. What're you doing at a  _park_ ?”

Ianto thought he could have come up with a convincing lie. Unfortunately, Gwil chose that moment to run over, pointing at a scraped knee. “Tad? You told me to tell you if I got hurted.”

“Hurt,” Ianto mumbled absently, already squatting down to examine the knee. “Are you okay?” Gwil shrugged, apparently unperturbed by the scrape. Ianto nodded and patted the side of his leg. “It's fine. Try to keep dirt out of it until your dad arrives.”

Taking that as a dismissal, Gwil hurried back off to the playground. Ianto stayed squatting for a moment, as if he could avoid his sister's inquisition by not standing up. He knew he had to face her, of course, and so with only a moment's more procrastination, he straightened from his crouch. 

Rhiannon was alternately gasping and grinning madly. “Was...was that your... _son_ ? Do you have a  _son?_ How could you have not told me this, you daft bastard!”

Ianto put on his best apologetic face. “I'm sorry. He just sort of...fell into our laps. It's only been...” Ianto paused, counting in his mind. Actually, it had been almost a year. Ten months or so. “...A few months,” he fibbed.

Rhiannon slapped his arm – a bit  _hard_ , Ianto felt – and giggled madly. “Oh, my gracious, he's absolutely  _precious_ ! Look at how well-behaved he is!” Ianto turned to the playground to see that Gwil was helping a smaller girl onto a swing. “What's his name?”

“Gwil.” Rhiannon's nose scrunched up in delight and she cooed.

“So, wait, he's not yours, then? You adopted him? With who?”

Jack, with his usual flair for dramatically  _perfect_ timing, chose that moment to pull up in the SUV and bound out. Gwil spotted him first, and it was his racing over to the car park that brought Ianto's attention to Jack. Behind him, Rhiannon followed his gaze and gasped. “ _He_ _is_ _not_ _yours_ ! Is he? Oh my Lord, I had heard rumors...”

Ianto waited for Jack to come over to him, Gwil hoisted high in his arms. Jack started to lean in for a kiss but stopped, noticing Rhiannon and eyeing Ianto questioningly. “Who is this lovely lady you're talking to?”

Ianto sighed, tugging Gwil from Jack into his arms. “Jack, this is my sister: Rhiannon. Rhiannon: Jack. He's Gwil's dad.”

Rhiannon hesitated, pointing between the two men. “Wait, wait, explain it to me. Are either of you the biological father?”

“No, we just...adopted him. Together.” Hiding a blush, Ianto's attention returned to Gwil's scraped knee, and he frowned. He'd best get some antiseptic on it and a plaster before the grime from the park settled in. This, of course, was not an excuse to get away from his sister, though he did hesitate at the thought of leaving Jack alone with her. With a speculative glance between the two of them, Ianto gave Jack a sharp look. “I'm going to clean up Gwil's knee with the kit in the SUV. I won't be long.” He glanced significantly over to his sister, then back at Jack. “Be good.”

Jack grinned and winked. “I'm always good.”

**

When Ianto returned, Gwil racing off to the playground again with a fresh dinosaur plaster on his knee, he found Rhiannon laughing and turning bright red. “What has he said?” he grumbled, sliding onto the bench next to Jack.

Beneath the table Jack nudged his thigh against Ianto's. Ianto had to remind himself not to pull away. 

Rhiannon was waving her hands, still gasping with laughter. “I  _knew_ you'd be an overprotective parent! Jack was telling me about [Gwil's first temperature](http://amuly.livejournal.com/56832.html).”

Ianto blushed. “I was worried. Something could have happened. And Jack was a nervous wreck, too,” he pointed out. Eyes narrowing slyly, he looked across at his sister. “Besides, the better story is [Gwil's first kiss](http://amuly.livejournal.com/60716.html).”

Rhiannon gasped. “At his age? He can't be older'n six!”

“Seven, actually.” Ianto frowned. “He's small for his age.” _Yet another reason to keep him out of school a year more._ Ianto felt his headache return in earnest at the thought of sending Gwil off to school.

Reaching across the table, Rhiannon tapped Ianto's hand. “Well, go on! Tell me!”

Jack leaned forward conspiratorially. “It was at football practice. With a fellow teammate: _Owen_.”

Rhiannon gasped appropriately. “ _No_!”

“Yes!”

Ianto wanted to thunk his head on the table. He didn't do family. And he hadn't thought Jack did, either. But here he was, gossiping with his sister like they were old mates. He lifted a hand to his temple. He should have grabbed paracetamol from the kit when he was there.

An hour later, and Ianto was dragging Jack and Gwil back to the cars. By then he had already been roped into two dinner dates for the families and a weekend play date for the kids. “What did you think you were doing?” he hissed at Jack once they were at the SUV.

Jack looked surprised. “I was being nice to your sister. I thought that's what you wanted.”

Ianto shook his head, refusing to look at Jack. With a huff he opened his car door, nudging Gwil inside and focusing all his attention on buckling his seatbelt. When he closed the door and turned back to Jack, Ianto's face was a storm cloud. “Polite, fine. But getting chummy, accepting dinner invitations...” Ianto put his hands on his hips. “What exactly do you think is goning to happen when we have to cancel on her because of a Rift alert? And then have to cancel the raincheck because of another alert? And when we have to race off from Gwil's play date because a spaceship crashed just outside of Newport?”

Ianto took a breath, rubbing his forehead.

“I'm just saying it's hard, Jack. It's hard to do the life-outside-of-Torchwood. Which is why I've never tried.”

Jack frowned, reaching out and taking Ianto's hand in his. “Well, maybe it's time you did.”

Ianto scoffed derisively. “Yeah, well, how many of us do you see making it work? One out of five? Not very good odds, Jack.”

Jack's face took on that thunderous quality it sometimes got, and Ianto knew he had struck a nerve. At the moment, he didn't care: he was tired, his head was killing him, and all he could think of was the fact that Gwen hadn't had to deal with the alien spider invasion last weekend because she was off with Rhys. So he pressed on. “The only one out of all of us who gets to have it all is Gwen, and you know it. Doesn't matter that I'm raising a Rift child, one that  _you_ insisted we keep – no, Gwen's got to be the one who has weekends off, who gets to go on dinner dates and even take  _our son_ on trips to the park: trips we never go on with him, except for these fleeting moments in between disasters!”

Ianto took a breath. Jack's face had shut down: a blank mask. He shouldn't have been so angry, Ianto knew. He was tired. No, not tired: he was absolutely  _exhausted_ . And it really wasn't Gwen's fault, Ianto knew. She had been a great help to them, taking Gwil out when neither Jack nor he had the time. It just sometimes felt like she was the privileged, spoilt youngest sibling of their twisted family, and Ianto was a mix of long-suffering mother and servant. And Gwen was three years older than him!

Jack's response was quiet. “I thought you wanted him. I thought...I thought you loved him.”

Ianto's anger faded and resolve crumbled as he looked up at Jack's face. To anyone else, his expression was completely neutral, devoid of any emotion. But Ianto knew him better than that. He hadn't made him angry: he had hurt him.

“Jack, I didn't mean-” Ianto made to reach out for Jack, but he pulled away and turned to the SUV.

“I'll see you at the Hub.” 

Ianto winced as the door slammed and Jack pulled out, tires screeching as he peeled away. 

He slid into the driver's seat of his own sedan and sat for a moment, unblinking, staring at the dash. 

“Tad?”

Wiping his face – not tears,  _never_ tears over one Mr. Jack Harkness – Ianto turned around. “Yup? You alright back there, Gwil?”

“You and Dad were fighting.”

Ianto offered Gwil a tight smile. “It'll be fine. Just...grown-up stuff. Now come on,” he tapped Gwil's leg, “Why don't we stop at that chip place on the way home? Like you wanted.” Gwil's face lit up, and Ianto turned back around feeling self-satisfied. At least there was one person he could make happy. 

Sending off a quick text to Jack to let him know they were picking up dinner –  _not that it matters, probably going off to a roof to brood, leaving us alone for the night_ – Ianto pulled away from the park and set off for food and the Hub.

**

As Ianto tried to herd Gwil into their living quarters while carrying bags full of food and their dry cleaning, he heard Jack's voice shouting orders. It was a surprise – Ianto had honestly thought Jack would be gone for the night in one of his sulks, only to slip into bed just before dawn. As if Ianto didn't know that he had been out; as if Ianto didn't know exactly when he came back.

Ianto rounded the corner of the tunnels into the main area of the Hub, just in time to see Gwen, Owen, and Tosh all filing out through the cog door. Jack's back was to Gwil and Ianto, as he watched the other team members file out. 

Gwil hurried away from Ianto, scrambling over to his dad and tugging at his leg. “Dad? Tad bought you chips.” Big eyes stared up at Jack beseechingly. “And he got you the coleslaw that you like, even though he said you didn't deserve it for being a wanker. But he said it makes you happy.”

Ianto coughed delicately, shifting the food in his grip. “Gwil, language.” He risked a glance at Jack, who was looking like he didn't know whether to laugh or hug him. “I didn't say  _wanker_ ,” he muttered. “Must have picked that up from Owen.”

Extracting himself from Gwil's grip, Jack took the bags from Ianto and kissed him on the cheek. “Let's go eat. The Rift is supposed to be quiet tonight, so I sent everyone else home.” His eyes were pleading as he looked at Ianto. “I was going to cook, before I got your text. But I still sent them all off, so we'd have a family dinner.”

Ianto smiled. Jack was  _trying_ . Really, honestly trying. He reached out and squeezed Jack's arm. “Thank you.”

**

Later that night, when Gwil was safely tucked up in bed and Ianto in Jack's arms, Ianto felt Jack nuzzle at his hair before pressing a small kiss above his ear. “I'll get you more time off, to spend with Gwil. And I'll try to spend more time with him, too.”

Ianto shifted, trying to turn around to look Jack in the eye. But Jack's arms stayed firm around him, holding him in place. “I didn't mean it, Jack. I was just tired and hadn't had enough caffeine. It does happen, on occasion.”

Ianto felt Jack's breath tickle his ear as he sighed. “No, I'm asking too much of you. If you were still just on administrative support, it might be doable. But you're a field agent, as well as run the entire archives  _and_ liaise with everyone I don't want to – which is  _everyone_ .” There was a pause, then Jack continued. “I'm going to hire more staff. That way we can have a proper rotary going, with  _real_ time off. Not 'time off Rift-willing'.”

Ianto hummed, not really taking anything Jack was saying seriously. “Got anyone in mind? Or would you like me to start poaching UNIT?”

“Well...” Jack drew the word out slowly, letting a pregnant pause fill the air. “What do you think about Andy?”

  
  
 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Ianto get some alone time; Gwil gets to go to the cinema.

 

Gwil gasped at the brightly colored movie posters hanging around the theatre. His hand was clenched tightly in Gwen's as Rhys ordered their snacks from the concessions stand.

"...and a box of M&Ms." Gwil watched as Rhys payed the cashier and collected their mounds of food and drink. Once Rhys was weighed down by an armful of sodas, popcorn, and candy, Gwen tugged on Gwil's hand and they walked into the cinema together to find some seats.

Gwil was squirming in his seat, looking around at the other people sitting there, then at the advertisements on the screen, then back at the projection booth as he traced the source of the moving pictures. Tapping him gently on the leg, Gwen pushed the box of M&Ms into his hands. "Try some of these. But don't tell your tad I let you eat junk food."

Gwil marveled at the little round, colorful pieces of candy, each with their M stamped onto one side. Carefully, he put one in his mouth, sucking on it and then biting down. His eyes widened and he beamed up at Gwen. "Sweets!"

Rhys, reaching over Gwen, plucked the box from Gwil's hand and gave him back a small handful. "Don't need you getting sick." He chuckled and turned to Gwen. "Wouldn't want to clean up that mess."

Gwil looked on, somewhat uninterested, as Gwen and Rhys beamed at each other, nuzzling and canoodling for reasons unfathomable to Gwil. He wondered what his dads were doing now.

**

Jack pulled Ianto to him on the bed, grinning as he wrapped his arms around him. "We've got the whole evening," he murmured. He felt Ianto tense up slightly, and frowned. "Hey: what's wrong? I got us the night off, made the room up for you..." Jack looked around the room at his handiwork. Electronic candles were placed in strategic bunches around the room and the lights were off. He had even dug around in the linen closet for Ianto's special silk, red sheets, that he only brought out for special occasions. Jack nudged Ianto when he was slow to respond.

"It's very nice, Jack. It is. But..." Ianto turned around in Jack's arms to look him in the eye,"Gwen ended up getting the night off, too. Wasn't the point to try and even out time off?"

Jack nodded, moving out from behind Ianto and sliding off the bed. "It was. Which is why I've drawn up a roster, so that we know exactly how much time any one of us has off." He pulled a piece of paper out from his bureau drawer, waving it at Ianto with a flourish. "See? Because of tonight, Gwen has to work the next three weekends."

Ianto frowned as he took the paper, but slowly his expression softened as he examined it with his practiced eye. "You really put a lot of time into this, didn't you?" Jack could only smile gently down at him in response. Ianto's beautiful naked flesh was accented by the red of the sheets, making him a vision of gorgeous Welsh breeding. The soft smile in his eyes as he looked up at Jack only made him more so, and Jack felt his heart swell to bursting. Leaning down, Jack started in for a kiss, only to hesitate a centimeter before Ianto's lips. The other man had no such hesitation, reaching up and cupping Jack's cheek, pulling him in the remaining distance until their lips finally met.

A whimper escaped Jack as he crawled into the arms of his perfect Ianto. They shifted until Ianto was on top, grinning down at Jack. They kissed again, tongues tangling as hips settled against one another, slowly working their way up to their familiar rhythm. Jack hummed his approval as one hand trailed down Ianto's back, settling on his arse and squeezing tightly. Ianto's hips pressed down harder in return, and there was a momentary lessening of contact as Ianto reached to their nightstand for the lube.

Jack reached a hand up, tweaking Ianto's nipple as he leaned over him, then craning his neck to lick a stripe where his fingers had just been. Crawling back to his previous snug position atop Jack, Ianto slapped at Jack lightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Stop that, or we'll never get to the main event."

Jack waggled his eyebrows, sighing and pulling Ianto closer to him. "Well, we wouldn't want that."

Ianto kissed Jack deeply as he pushed two slick fingers inside him. Jack arched into the touch, relaxing around the probing, thrusting fingers. He groaned as he felt Ianto's fingers stretching inside him, moving and scissoring. If he didn't know that an even better sensation was coming, he could lie here all night, coming on Ianto's fingers alone.

Completely relaxed, Jack barely even moved as Ianto withdrew his fingers and slicked up his cock. With a firm smack to his flank, Ianto edged closer. “Come on, don't make me do all the work.” Jack chuckled, lifting his legs and wrapping them around Ianto's back, pulling them closer together as he did.

Jack let his head fall back, pressed back against the silken pillowcase, as Ianto entered him. He mm'ed as Ianto settled, hips pressed firmly against Jack's arse. As Ianto began to move, Jack wrapped his thighs tighter around Ianto, pulling him in and squeezing tight. He dug the heel of one foot into the crack of Ianto's arse, rubbing it up and down. Ianto laughed as he thrust, smacking at Jack's chest. “Stop it.”

Jack waggled his eyebrows. “What?” He rubbed his heel harder, finding Ianto's hole and pressing against it.

Ianto's hips stuttered in their movement, and he shook his head, laughing again. “I don't think it's going to fit.”

He thrust harder and Jack gasped, heel dropping from its place as Ianto hit his prostate. Jack slowly fell apart as Ianto wrapped a hand around his cock, and came soon after, orgasm washing over him with a slow intensity.

He pulled Ianto down, kissing him languidly until he felt Ianto stiffen and spill into him. Their breaths mingled as Ianto lay atop him, resting as post-orgasmic shudders caused his muscles to twitch and contract.

Finally Ianto shifted, groaning as he pulled out of Jack, who felt the loss of Ianto filling him keenly. They settled around each other, curled up as their heartbeats returned to normal.

“This was nice, Jack. Thank you.”

Jack rubbed Ianto's shoulder, kissing him on the forehead. “Well, hopefully we'll find some more recruits and manage to have even more downtime. If I could just get Mickey and Martha away from UNIT...”

Tucked firmly into Jack's side, Ianto hummed. “At least we have Andy now. That should help.”

Jack laughed. “Once he figures out how to tell the difference between an alien diplomat and a child.”

Ianto poked him in the ribs. “Hey, how was he supposed to know Gwil really was a little boy? It happened once on Star Trek!”

“Which is why you shouldn't learn lessons about aliens from television.”

As Ianto's chuckle faded and breathing evened out, Jack pulled Ianto closer to him. He pressed his nose to Ianto's soft curls, breathing in deeply and trying to memorize this moment. He never, ever wanted to hurt this man lying with him. If only he could force himself to stop and think once in a while, he might be able to do just that.  
  
  


 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack broods, Ianto follows, and they sort things out.

 

Ianto could barely even remember why they were fighting this time, as he tucked Gwil into bed. It had started with Owen, and one of his “husband” comments. “ _Looks like you'll have to take the husband out some other weekend._ ” Jack had refuted the label, chuckling and glancing over at Ianto, expecting the same reaction. Only Ianto had been distracted, slow on the uptake. Being elbows-deep in an alien spacecraft would do that to a person. So he had muttered something like “ _We'll just move our reservations to next weekend_ ,” and continued on doing his job. 

He hadn't expected Jack to stop smiling.

He hadn't expected Jack to take off on his own as soon as they were back at the Hub.

So here he was, two hours later and putting Gwil to bed. Dinner, bath time, and story time had all come and gone, and still no Jack. 

“Are there really planets with red suns?”

Ianto carefully marked their place in  _The Magician's Nephew_ and set it on Gwil's bedside table. “There sure are.” He tucked the covers carefully around Gwil, brushing his hair back on his forehead and pressing a kiss to it. 

“Can I go there someday?”

Ianto froze, willing himself not to say something rash. “Maybe,” he finally forced out. “When you're much, much older.” 

He straightened, meaning to leave. But Gwil's little hand reached out, wrapping four fingers around his arm. “Tad? I need to give you a kiss for Dad. For when he's done with work.”

Reluctantly, Ianto leaned back down and let Gwil kiss him on the cheek. If he had no reservations about lying to Gwil, he might consider not giving Jack the kiss. But as it was, he would have to pass the kiss onto Jack. If the man ever came home.

**

An hour later, and Ianto was beyond furious. Who the hell did Jack think he was? Ianto stopped bitterly at the thought. Captain Jack Harkness: that's who Jack thought he was. But that still didn't excuse this. Jack had wanted Gwil. Jack had promised to make more time for them, and had hired Andy to help make it happen. And yet, Owen says one little word, “husband”, and Jack flees like he's got a Dalek armada hot on his heels.

With a growl, Ianto threw down the archive file he was looking at –  _looking at_ , not reading – and grabbed his jacket. Jack wasn't going to get away with this again. 

It should have been a simple matter of checking the location data on the SUV. But when Ianto pulled it up, there was no signal. Jack had turned it off. Same with the GPS on his cellphone. So Ianto pulled up the CCTV footage, following the SUV back from the Hub. As Jack weaved through the streets, Ianto's confusion became more and more, until a sudden spark of realization went through him. Without even waiting to see the final few turns of Jack's journey, Ianto shut down the computer and grabbed his car keys. 

**

Ianto opened the door to his old flat quietly. The place was dark, but the lights from the other apartments and street were enough to make his way through the familiar layout. He shut the door almost silently behind himself, scanning through rooms illuminated by only ambient light. His living room, kitchen, and guest room were empty. Really, he had known all along where he would find Jack once he had figured out where he was headed. 

The door to his old bedroom was open, and for a moment, he just stood in the doorway. Jack was on his bed – apparently asleep. As Ianto stepped farther into the room, he could see that Jack was definitely asleep. It was an odd thing: Ianto didn't think he had seen Jack asleep for months, now. The other man was always still awake when he fell asleep, and already up by the time Ianto was waking. 

Ianto sat down on the bare bed, bedsprings creaking in protest as they dipped under his weight. Jack was instantly awake beside him, though he didn't move after his initial jerk. 

They sat in silence for a long time: at least half an hour. Ianto was about to give up, go home to the Hub and Gwil, when Jack spoke.

“It almost doesn't smell like you anymore.” Ianto waited for Jack to continue. “Every time I come, it's less.”

Ianto sighed, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees. “Then come home, Jack. Our bedroom smells like me.”

Jack shook his head, still not moving from his recumbent position. “No, it doesn't.” Jack finally pushed himself upright, touching a whisper of a hand to Ianto's shoulder. “It smells like  _us_ , not  _you_ .”

“That's not a bad thing, Jack.” Ianto glanced over his shoulder and looked up at Jack. “After all, I'm not Gwil's father by myself. Neither are you. We both are. _Us_. And I don't know why you hate that so much, that idea of us being together. If you...” Ianto took a breath, stealing himself. “If you don't want to be exclusive, that's...we could work something out.”

“No! No, Ianto,” Jack's touch was firmer now, more insistent at Ianto's back. “No, Ianto. I don't want to be with anyone else. We have so little time... It's just...” Jack waved his hands uncertainly. “Makes me feel...claustrophobic?”

Ianto laughed, shaking his head. Finally, he turned fully around to face Jack, pulling his legs up and crossing them. Jack smiled tentatively, reaching out and resting his hands on Ianto's thighs and stroking his thumbs gently over the fabric. “Claustrophobic?”

“Mm, say it again.”

Ianto rolled his eyes and tapped at Jack's hand. “I'm not asking you to marry me, Jack. I'm not even asking to be your boyfriend. I'm just...” Ianto paused, trying to figure out what he  _was_ asking of Jack. “Could you just brood in the Hub, in the future? So I know where you are?”

Jack's fingers picked at Ianto's trousers. “Why'd you keep the flat?”

Ianto frowned, trying to follow Jack's non sequitur. One moment studying Jack's face, so obviously displaying his insecurity, and Ianto understood. “Oh, Jack...” He reached out and pulled Jack into a kiss, reassuring him in the physical manner most familiar to them. When he pulled back, Jack's eyes were hopeful, though still harbored some small flicker of doubt. “It was in case something happened to the Hub,” Ianto explained. “Our house is also our headquarters, and our organization isn't always fondly thought upon. I was worried there might be an attack, and then we'd have no where. You and I might do alright with hotels for a few weeks, but Gwil...” Ianto shrugged. “I wanted to minimize the uncertainties in his life.” Ianto smiled, remembering something. “Oh, and Gwil asked me to give you this.” He leaned forward and gently pecked Jack on the cheek.

Ianto didn't pull away immediately, and Jack made no move to, either. They nuzzled at each other's cheeks and necks, until Ianto found himself being pulled forward, on top of Jack. 

**

An hour later, Ianto straightened his tie as Jack nibbled at his earlobe. “One more-”

“Jack, Gwil's at home. God knows what he'll think if he wakes up from a nightmare or wants a glass of water...”

Jack relented, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and bounding upright. He held out a hand to Ianto, who took it and allowed himself to be hauled up, off the old mattress. With one final kiss, Jack let Ianto lead them out to their cars and back to the Hub.

The next day, Ianto put his flat on the market.

A week later, after they had to kill a man infected with an alien parasite, Jack went down to the Torchwood docks to brood. He left Ianto a note tacked to their fridge.    
  
  



	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwil's 8th birthday; Gwil's 8th birthday take two.

Ianto was sitting on Jack's desk, laughing quietly into his cup of coffee, when Gwen came in. "Jack, about the time off schedule..."

Ianto winced and stood up immediately, trying to excuse himself as inconspicuously as possible. Gwen noticed and tapped him on the arm. "Oi! I'm not trying to be difficult. I just want to switch weekends with someone for next weekend. It's my birthday and Rhys wanted to take a little holiday to a romantic cabin." Gwen made googly-eyes, grinning at the thought.

Jack poked at Ianto, gesturing around his desk. "Ianto, could you..."

with a sigh, Ianto deftly opened one of Jack's drawers and extracted the spreadsheet. He honestly had no clue how Torchwood had functioned before he came along. Actually, he did: if the state of the archives were anything to go by, Torchwood's only consistent governing type for the past century had been "disorganized".

Ianto peered at the spreadsheet, figuring who could swap what weekend with Gwen. His first instinct was to swap himself, but Gwil had a footie game that weekend that he really couldn't miss if it could be at all helped. He didn't think Tosh or Owen had anything going on, so he made a note to ask them as soon as they returned from collecting that alien fossil out in Newport.

He told as much to Gwen, who smiled broadly. "Oh, you are a dear, Ianto. Thank you!" She turned to leave, and Ianto thought that would be the end of it. He went to resume his position on Jack's desk, when Gwen paused and turned around, half-way to the door. "You know, now that I'm thinking about it, Gwil hasn't had a birthday the whole time he's been here."

Jack and Ianto frowned in unison, glancing at each other. “He never mentioned one...” Jack drawled out.

“You never mentioned one either, sir. We still celebrated,” Ianto pointed out.

“Oh yeah...” Jack's face took on a dreamy quality that made Gwen giggle and Ianto blush. She couldn't possibly know about the chocolates and the swing and the tentacle, but _still_...

Ianto coughed delicately and straightened his tie. “I can't imagine he has one, coming from a textile mill,” he mused. “We could assign him one? The day he fell through the Rift, perhaps?”

Gwen immediately clapped her hands together and smiled. “It's perfect! Every kid deserves a birthday, after all. Especially since we were all abducted for Christmas last year and the poor dear missed out on the two weeks surrounding the 25th.”

Ianto nodded and looked pointedly at Jack. “I'm going to have to agree with Gwen.”

Jack's hands were already up in front of him in surrender. “You don't hear me protesting. I embrace any opportunity to spoil my son rotten.”

Ianto frowned down at the schedule, making some notes. “We're already scheduled for time off the weekend of his one-year Rift anniversary. We could do something in the park? Maybe even take him on holiday to London? He'd probably love the Eye...”

Gwen, whom Ianto hadn't noticed was still hovering in Jack's office, stepped closer. “Why not have it here? We're all going to get him gifts anyways.”

There was a hesitant _look_ shared between Jack and Ianto, before Jack spoke up. “Yeah, but he spends all his time down here already. I'd rather take him out that weekend – see the sights of modern Britain.”

With a somewhat apologetic – and completely insincere – smile, Ianto nodded at Gwen. “I agree with Jack. Gwil deserves some time away from this place.” His gaze drifted over to Jack, and he said, more sincerely, “We all do.”

**

They were just rounding the top of the London Eye when the call came through.

Gwil was clutching the lap bar, leaning as far over his fathers as he could. First he'd lean over Ianto's lap, gaping and gazing at everything on his side. Then he'd lean over Jack's lap, mouth hanging wide open and big blue eyes bulging almost out of his head. 

“Jack! Where are you?”

Ianto sighed, already thumbing off his gun's safety and making sure Gwil was buckled in securely. 

With a resigned glance between the two men, Jack tapped his comm. “We're on the London Eye, Owen. What is it?”

“Turn around.”

Ianto, listening in on the same line, turned around before Jack did. On instinct he grabbed Gwil with one hand and covered his eyes with the other. There was a...Ianto fumbled for a label. It was basically a  _monster_ climbing up the bridge behind them, roaring like something out of a bad fifties movie.

Jack's mouth had dropped open, hand still pressed to the comm in his ear. “Oh, not one of  _you_ .”

Ianto, hands still firmly clasped over Gwil's eyes, turned to Jack. “I suppose this is a problem?”

“Big. Problem.”

**

“Sorry your eighth birthday didn't go better, champ.”

Rubbing a towel over his head, Ianto smiled over at Gwil as Jack spoke. Gwil was sitting on the double bed in their hotel room, remote firmly gripped in his small hands as cartoon images from the telly illuminated his skin.

“When we get back to the Hub, Auntie Gwen will have a little party ready for you, okay? But your tad and I are going to have to spend the rest of the weekend working.”

Ianto sighed, tossing the towel at Jack as he shucked on one of the plush hotel bathrobes and walked over to the bed. Crawling onto it, Ianto sat behind Gwil and pulled him into his lap. The boy instinctively cuddled against Ianto, dropping the remote and tangling his fingers into Ianto's bathrobe. Ianto pressed his nose to Gwil's hair and breathed deep, satisfying himself that the shower had gotten all of the – yet to be identified to him by Jack – alien guts from his hair.

Jack started toward the bed, only stopping to throw a robe on when Ianto glared at him from above Gwil's head. Regardless of what Jack had argued about it not mattering at Gwil's age, Ianto felt eight was a bit old to have your dads wandering around naked in front of you.

Gwil was grinning up at Jack as he joined them on the bed. “I get _two_ birthday parties?”

Ianto and Jack's eyes met over Gwil's head, and they smiled. 

“Sure do, champ. Tad'll call Gwen tonight, and she'll have it all ready for you when we get home.”

**

When they pulled into the Hub, Gwen was waiting with party hats and noise makers. “Happy Birthday, Gwil!”

She blew on the noise maker, running over to them and pinning a hat to Gwil's head. He grinned up at her, pushing the hat out of his eyes. “Thank you, Auntie Gwen.”

Cooing all the while, Gwen ushered Gwil inside as Ianto stared dejectedly into the boot of the SUV. “What do you want me-”

Jack cut him off with a wave of his hand and squeeze to his arse. “Worry about that later. Right now, we've got Gwil's second eighth birthday to attend.”

With a sigh, Ianto closed the heavy door on the SUV, leaving the desiccated remains where they were. Jack was right: it could wait until after Gwil's party.

They waked into the Hub together, following the sound of Gwil's cries of delight. The main area of the Hub came into view as they rounded the corner, and Ianto raised his eyebrows as he saw the decorations Gwen put up. There were streamers and balloons and banners proclaiming “Happy Eighth Birthday, Gwil!” In some dark corner of his mind, Ianto silently bemoaned the fact that he'd be the one to clean all this up. But he quickly shoved the thought down, replacing it with the bubble of joy at seeing Gwil exclaiming over the pile of presents waiting for him on their raggedy old couch.

The rest of the Torchwood team was gathered around the couch, party hats on them all (except for Owen, who was scowling at Gwen and backing up every time she came near). There was even a cake with nine unlit candles stuck in it. Ianto was surprised – and grateful – for Gwen's thoughtfulness: Myfanwy tended to get skittish whenever there was an open flame in the Hub.

Jack immediately inserted himself at Gwil's side, tugging him into his lap and poking at the presents simultaneously. “Want to open your presents before cake?”

Ianto frowned, but Gwil pipped up, shooting a glance at him: “Tad said 'patience is a virtue', Dad.”

Gwen, Tosh, and Owen and burst out laughing at the affronted expression on Jack's face. Rhys and Andy chuckled more quietly behind their hands.

Jack recovered quickly, ruffling Gwil's hair and bouncing him on his knee. “Fine, fine. Killjoy.” Jack and Ianto shared a grin across the coffee table. “Cake, then?”

Ianto smiled as he looked down on the cake. It was a dinosaur cake, complete with little plastic dinosaurs stuck into it that would serve as nice bath or sandbox toys later – after they were cleaned of cake, of course. Gwen must have gotten it, and Ianto made a note to let her have an extra day off sometime soon. This whole thing was really quite nice of her, and well-done.

After a round of “Happy Birthday”, Ianto started forward to cut Gwil's cake. He hesitated, knife hovering in the air. “Gwil, do you want to cut the first slice? It's good luck.” Gwil grinned and started forward, moving to snatch the knife out of Ianto's hand. He pulled back, hesitating. With great reluctance he handed the knife over to Gwil, but then curled his hand on top of his tiny one, guiding the cut. As soon as the knife touched the bottom of the cake, Ianto nudged Gwil away and took over.

Gwil gobbled down two pieces of cake before Ianto put a stop of it; Jack managed to scarf down three himself before he received a similarly reproachful look from him.

Once the cake was finished – in record time, but then again Gwil was the only child present, and the adults around him certainly had a healthy appetite – Jack poked at the brightly-wrapped packages. “Presents now?”

Ianto nodded, surreptitiously checking his watch. He'd look up the CCTV footage later so that he could pull photos from it. “One at a time, Jack!”

Jack pouted, setting down two presents and handing Gwil just one. With a glance at Ianto, Gwil pulled dutifully at the card first, slitting it open with tiny fingers and holding it out in front of him. “Birth...day...Auntie Tosh!”

Tosh smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I hope you two don't mind, but I thought it'd be a nice change...”

“A Wii?! Thank you, Auntie Tosh! Owen and Chris and Liam have one!” Gwil informed the adults around him.

Tosh pointed at the box, where controllers and wheels and game packages were spilling out. “There's _Wii Sports_ , _Mario Kart_ , and _Super Mario Galaxy_ for fun, but then _Big Brain Academy_ and _Word Coach_ for educational purposes. I hope you don't mind...”

Jack was grinning madly and clutching the plastic little baseball bats and tennis rackets. “Mind? Mind! Tosh, this is amazing! Ianto, we've got to play with these tonight!”

Gwil was blinking and staring at the back of the Mario game. “I know him! He's in my Gameboy.”

Owen butted in, reaching across the table and snatching at one of the presents. Ianto had assumed it was his from the beginning, seeing as it was the only gift wrapped – poorly – in newspaper. “Mine's next. Tosh and I collaborated.” He winked at Ianto. “Gotta make sure your kid's getting a proper education.”

Ianto didn't have long to wonder what Owen meant by that, when Gwil tore open the newspaper to reveal three more Wii games: _Call of Duty 3_ , _Red Steel 2_ , and _Golden Eye 007_ , along with two adaptors to make the Wii-mote into a gun or samurai sword. Owen hurriedly snatched at the _Golden Eye_ game, shoving it at Ianto. “And before you go off about the violence, check it out: James Bond. You've got to admit, that's a good choice for the kid.”

Internally, Ianto was conflicted, but he nodded politely at Owen. He could test the games himself later and swap them out of they proved too violent. “Thank you, Owen. Very thoughtful. And thank you too, Tosh. But if he falls behind in his studies because of this you have no one but yourself to blame.” He paused, mock-considering. “And Owen, I suppose.”

Tosh smiled craftily. “I'm counting on the games accelerating his literacy and spatial reasoning, actually.”

Jack was already moving on to the next gift as Wii games and accessories spilled down around them. Belatedly, Ianto pulled out his notebook and started writing down a list of gifts and gift-givers so that he could make Gwil write proper thank-yous later. Gwen's gift was tossed into Gwil's lap, who tore at the paper. It was _Muppet Show_ DVDs, along with a stuffed Kermit the Frog. Gwil gaped and hugged the frog to his chest, squeezing him tight and closing his eyes.

Gwen smiled at Ianto. “I knew he was his favorite. Hopefully he doesn't already have the DVDs...”

Ianto had snuck alongside Gwil and was sorting through them. Along with two seasons of the _Muppet Show_ were _A Muppet Christmas Carol_ , _The Muppets Take Manhattan_ , and _Muppet Treasure Island_. Ianto smiled softly down at the picture of little (frog) Tiny Tim, dressed all-too-similarly to how they had found Gwil himself. “He doesn't have any of these, Gwen. Thank you.” He smiled at Gwil, who was still clutching Kermit tightly and stroking at his flippers. “Though it seems the least expensive part of the present was the biggest hit.”

Rhys stepped in then, pointing a finger at the stuffed animal. “That's an original version, I'll have you know. Cost me almost fifty quid.”

Gwen silenced him with a slap to the arm, waving her hands dismissively at Ianto. “We don't have any little ones, or even nieces or nephews to spoil. It's our pleasure.”

Andy's present was next: a little package compared to the other three. He shuffled his feet, shrugging as Gwil opened it. “Gwen helped me out with it,” he admitted. It was a set of Legos, designed to build a TIE-fighter. “She said you had been showing him them for educational purposes. I thought she was joking but...” Andy looked a little confused. “There aren't...is it really a historical drama?”

Mock-glaring at Jack, Ianto shrugged nonchalantly. “If you believe everything Jack is, it's his biography. At least, parts of it are.”

“Princess Leona was, if you can believe it, even more attractive than Carrie Fisher. She was also blue.” When Andy seemed to be taking this news relatively well, Jack continued with a wicked grin. “And had six arms. And a prehensile tail. With _fingers_.” 

With Andy suitably astonished, Jack glanced around the couch. “Ianto? Where's our gifts?”

But Ianto was already heading to the stairs that led down to their rooms. “Well, I didn't expect the welcome home party. One moment.”

Gifts successfully retrieved from Ianto's hiding spot in the back of their closet (Jack's own birthday and Christmas presents were already tucked safely away back there), Ianto brought the two carefully wrapped packages up to Gwil. “One from your dad and one from me,” he instructed, indicating which box was which.

Gwil took a moment carefully considering each box before deciding, evidently based on the fact that Jack's was heavier, to open Jack's first. It was an entire set of items, designed – as Jack had explained to Ianto one night – to turn Gwil into the next great fighter pilot. There was a little leather bomber jacket, two model airplane kits, fighter goggles, and – to Ianto's surprise – a Wii fighter pilot game. He frowned at that addition, which he wasn't aware of several weeks ago when Jack had shown him the rest of the presents. Jack smiled apologetically. “I might have checked everyone's credit card history for ideas.”

Four of the adults in the room squawked indignantly at that, with only Andy looking wide-eyed and confused. “Can you  _do_ that?” A blush rose on his cheeks and Jack waved reassuringly at him. 

“Don't worry, Andy: it was strictly for gift-giving reasons. I didn't look into your online porn subscriptions and adult toy orders.”

Ianto made a note to bring Andy an extra batch of coffee and chocolate biscuits tomorrow. 

Oblivious to the adult conversation going on above him, Gwil had already slipped on the bomber goggles and jacket, and had moved onto Ianto's gift. 

Ianto waited with bated breath. He had known when he bought the gift that it might not rank in Gwil's top favorite gifts, but he had really wanted for Gwil to have it. And how many video games and DVDs did one little boy really need, anyway?

Reverently Gwil brushed aside the tissue paper, gasping as he gazed down at the gift. Jack beamed down at him, already aware of what Ianto had gotten him. 

“Well? What is it, dear? Show the rest of us!” Gwen prompted.

Gwil stuck his hands in the box and carefully,  _carefully_ pulled out the tiny, tailor-made three-piece suit, complete with tie, cufflinks, and even socks, shoes, and underwear to go with it. “Now I can be just like Tad,” he breathed.

Ianto had to turn away and scrub at his eyes, ignoring Jack's knowing gaze.

**

With the wrapping paper thrown away and gifts carefully stacked downstairs on their kitchen table, Gwen pushed them all together, camera dangling from one wrist. “Come on, come on. We have to get a picture! Jack, get in there, let's go.”

Ianto winced, eyes flickering to Jack. His thoughts went to the box hidden in the bottom drawer of Jack's desk, with all the old pictures from past families – wives, children, lovers. Jack's eyes met his, and Ianto looked away. One day, he and Gwil would only exist as a photo in Jack's box. But at least they would be there.

Gwen passed the camera off to Rhys, pulling Andy in on the end and checking to make sure everyone was in place. Gwil climbed up into Ianto's arms, tie around his neck and bomber goggles on his forehead. Gwen and Andy were on his right; Jack, Tosh and Owen on his left. Jack's strong arm wrapped around his waist, pulling Ianto and Gwil in close to his side. With a sigh Ianto relaxed into him, smiling easily at the camera.

“Alright, smile on three, everyone. Ready?” Rhys held the camera out in front of him, squinting down at the picture on the back. “One, two, three!” On three, Jack leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ianto's ear, causing his mouth to drop open in half-reproach, half surprise. The flash went off and Ianto groaned, nudging Jack with his hip. “You ruined it!” he hissed.

But Rhys was grinning down at the picture, before turning the camera around and passing it over to them. “I don't know, mate: I'd say that's a keeper.”

When Ianto saw the picture, he found himself reluctantly agreeing with Rhys. He might have looked shocked, but it was a happy sort of shocked. In his arms, Gwil was laughing, entire face lit up. And Jack...well, he looked the happiest Ianto could ever remember seeing him. Ianto sighed and passed the camera back over to Rhys. “I think you're right. Print me out a few copies?”

Rhys winked and nodded. “No problem.”

**

An hour later, Jack was sending everyone home and Gwil was tucked into Ianto's arms on the couch, sleeping off a sugar crash. The tie was still looped loosely around his neck, and the goggles were pressing circular indents into his forehead. Ianto slipped the goggles off his head, rubbing at the marks and then carding his fingers through Gwil's hair, which was flattened oddly.

A shadow passed above him, and Ianto looked up to see Jack smiling down fondly at him. “Worn out?”

Ianto groaned, passing Gwil up to Jack. “The both of us. I think I need to sleep for ten hours to get over that...what _was_ that alien, anyway?”

Securing Gwil to his shoulder, Jack rolled his eyes. “Oh,  _them_ . They're a major pain in the ass.” Winking, he extended his free hand down to Ianto. “Give me a pain in mine and I'll tell you all about them?”

Ianto laughed and let himself be pulled up into Jack's chest. “I was under the impression that  _pain_ wasn't the object of my interactions with your arse?”

Jack kissed him before hurrying off downstairs with Gwil, calling back over his shoulder: “Not always!”

With one last glance around the Hub for residual mess, Ianto shut down the main lights and started down after them, quiet grin refusing to leave his face.   
  


 


End file.
